


In Balance

by HuntingDandy (Vintage_lover_who)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bad Hux, Denial, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff the kylux way, Good squad cameos, Light Angst, Light side Kylo, M/M, Temporary Unrequited Love, Uncomfortable make out sessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-11 12:45:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7052131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vintage_lover_who/pseuds/HuntingDandy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo never left the Light. He often heard the whispers of the Dark but was never truly interested in them. That is, until a strange, redheaded war criminal is put under his care as he awaits for trial for the Massacre of the Hosnian System. It will be under these unusual circumstances that Ben will have to deal with the feelings the convicted General has awoken in him and with a much more powerful form of seduction</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Awesome art by milkcraving.tumblr.com

 

DAY 1

General Hux sits in the enclosed space, a blanket over his head. He scratches distractedly at his light stubble as he sits facing the wall of his cell, the light casting shadows over it. He hears steps coming down the hall but he doesn’t bother moving to assess who they belong to; there aren’t that many possibilities anyway.

The footsteps stop on the other side of the transparisteel door of Hux’s cell. He can smell the contents of the tray his visitor is carrying and he scrunches his nose up at the thought of them.

“Just leave it there,” commands Hux without a single glance back. His imprisoner remains immobile. “I mean it. I never ate in front of my crew and I’ll be damned if I ever do so in front of any of you, Resistance scum.”

There is no response but the figure in front of Hux’s cell doesn’t move. The General is getting impatient.

“Are you deaf?” he inquires as he turns around, just to find himself before a tall, masked man, wearing robes. Hux can’t help but snort. “What is this pantomime? You people are getting really desperate to get a reaction out of me, though I bet you never expected it to be laughter,” he tries to control himself, but he’s still smiling when he addresses the man again.

“So what are you supposed to be?”

The man stays put, gazing at Hux through his mask. He then opens the small space in the cell’s door meant to pass the food through it and starts pushing pushing the tray inside slowly. Hux stares wide-eyed as the tray enters the cell apparently on its own accord, hovering in the air without evident aid. Just as unexpectedly, the tray loses its invisible support and falls to the ground, its contents splattering around.

“Eat,” instructs a deep, modulated voice and the masked figure exits, leaving a very red, very infuriated General of the First Order behind.

*****

Ben Solo-Organa walks down the corridors of the Resistance base feeling pleased with himself. When he’d been first given this assignment, he’d protested, claiming he had lots of things to do already, plenty of missions to participate in and countless hours of training to do; Rey and the Knights weren’t going to train themselves, after all. But now, he thinks he might just be able to enjoy this.

At first, it’d been hard to believe that the Resistance had finally gotten itself one of the most dangerous men in the whole galaxy, General Hux, yet all doubt left Ben when he saw a redheaded man being conducted towards the improvised prison of the Resistance in the middle of the night. But despite the discreetness with which his incarceration had been orchestrated, the General soon made his presence known in the entire base; he became notorious for his scornful replies, his condescending behaviour and for attacking every single guard he’d come in contact with.

During the first month of his incarceration, Hux had managed to bite 5 guards, humiliate countless staff members and create a hostage situation. His latest deed had included the near strangulation of the guard supposed to bring him food, resulting in the need for more drastic measures.

That was where Ben came in. Being the most experienced of the younger Force-users that resided in the base, Ben was seen as the logical option to control the rogue General and to prevent him from hurting anyone else.

On the other hand, Hux wasn’t a complete stranger to Ben Solo. Hux’s influence seemed to be quite extended throughout the Order’s possessions and whenever Ben was on a mission, he was bound to find signs of such influence.

At some point, he’d even started to believe that Hux knew he was after him and left some trails on purpose, toying with him. They’d been engaged in that twisted hide-and-seek game for so long that sometimes, Ben almost felt like he knew the General personally, even when they had never formally encountered each other; hell, he wasn’t even sure of what Hux truly looked like.

Yet despite that interest, Ben had been too busy with his own responsibilities to pay attention to the prisoner, and he hadn’t gone down to the custodial wing of the base since Hux had arrived. That was why General Organa’s request had caught him so off-guard, especially after the recent events.

Of course she wanted him to participate under controlled circumstances, so before anything could happen, she crafted a strict set of rules supposed to protect him from Hux, who was presumed to be both a skilled strategist as well as a ruthless combatant, very good at reading people –even without Force sensitivity– and manipulating them according to his own designs. Ben, however, found all these precautions extremely annoying; Hux couldn’t be as intelligent as Leia gave him credit for if he had gotten himself caught, but he would do this his _mother’s_ way. She was a General, after all.

 

DAY 2

The tray with the splattered food on it still lies in Hux’s cell when Ben comes to see him once again. He’s carrying a new one in his arms and he eyes the fallen one through his mask, unimpressed.

Hux sits on his cot, this time actually facing the cell door but he barely acknowledges Ben’s presence, staring off into space instead. Ben doesn’t expect the situation to change, so he passes the tray through the small door, this time actually holding it out for Hux with his hand.

“You’re even crazier than you seem if you think I’ll get up for that shit.”

Hux’s sarcasm doesn’t necessarily catches Ben off-guard, but his nerve does surprise him; the man has barely eaten in 2 days and he somehow still finds the strength to challenge the very person designated to his care. He’s either very confident or very stupid, and Ben inclines towards the latter. However, he doesn’t let go of the tray; ultimately, two can play this game.

After a couple of minutes, Hux finally looks up at him, frowning. He leans back and crosses his arms in defiance.

“Still not letting go? I’m impressed. And to be fair, I’m also relieved; I was starting to think smashing things was some kind of habit of yours.”

Ben shakes the tray in lieu of an answer and Hux raises a brow at him. His arm is starting to get tired and he’s half helping himself with the Force, but the ginger doesn’t have to know, so he rattles the tray a bit more in annoyance.

Surprisingly, Hux leans forward without fully lifting himself from the cot and holds the other end of the tray; it’s not enough leverage to hold the whole tray by himself, and Ben Force-pushes it inside brusquely, making Hux stumble a bit to grasp it. The General glares daggers at Ben but says nothing as he places the tray on his lap, opting instead for eyeing the food with disgust.

“Eat”, Ben repeats his command from the previous day and stays just a few more minutes importuning Hux before walking away.

 

DAY 7

“Still wearing that bucket over your head, huh?”

Ben jerks slightly. He wasn’t really paying attention to Hux. He has plenty of things on his mind; Rey had been making remarkable progresses but recently started having some trouble and she needed to be able to access the Force smoothly.

Ben’s been trying to come up with a way to help Rey for the whole day, so the General’s remark comes as a surprise. He doesn’t ever address Ben directly; it’s like he’s always talking to himself.

“ _Yes, General, I still am,_ ” adds Hux in a high-pitched voice as he takes the tray out of Ben’s hand, who was lost in thought once again. It doesn’t prevent him from frowning under his mask.

If Hux was oblivious to his presence, Ben had correspondingly refrained from acknowledging Hux’s own with dialogue. It was part of the whole strategy, after all: no contact with other sentient beings aside from his assigned guard, impersonal treatment, building a sense of routine just to break it later on... Of course Leia was against such methods, that was why she had tried keeping Ben away from this all along, but he was convinced people like Hux couldn’t be treated any different. That was also why it was hard to believe such a petty comment was the one to break Ben’s resolve.

“You’d be wise to tread carefully when speaking to me. Otherwise, your food supply might abruptly be cut short.”

“Oh, please do! That way I might save myself the trouble of gobbling down these sorry excuses for a meal.”

Ben feels his blood boiling but does his best to control himself. _Find your peace_ , says Luke inside his head as he takes a deep breath. This man is simply not worth him losing his temper. Instead of giving him the upper hand, Ben rolls his shoulders, easing the tension off from them, gives one last disdainful look in Hux’s direction and walks away.

“Coward!” shouts Hux from his cell but Ben can’t hear him anymore. He’s elated because he already knows how to help Rey and he’s got to tell Luke as soon as possible.

 

DAY 14

It’s been two weeks since Ben accepted to watch over Hux and today he feels confident. He’s been “training” the General like an unruly dog, programming him to react at the stimuli of Ben half-pushing the tray inside his cell. He doesn’t even have to say a word anymore. He hasn’t managed to make Hux eat in front of him, but all in due time. Besides, that last detail would be solely to upset the ginger.

There hasn’t been a single incident since he started watching over Hux and there is an altogether more relaxed atmosphere around the base. The only problem at hand regarding the General is that nobody’s managed to extract out of him any information about the First Order’s operations. _Again, all in due time_ , thinks Ben as he comes to stand before Hux’s cell.

The General is lying in his cot but he sighs and stands at the sight of Ben. The Jedi is just starting to push the tray in when he notices Hux is eyeing him with narrow eyes and hands in his pockets; the stubble over his jaw is now turning into a beard.

“Who are you?” he blurts out and Ben freezes.

“My identity is of no concern to you,” he responds, recovering from the initial shift in behaviour and earning a snort from Hux.

“Are you really that ashamed of them?”

“I’m not ashamed,” adds Ben hurriedly, “I just don’t deem you important enough to know.” He’s aware of how childish it sounds. Hux smirks.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad. Unless–” Hux pauses for the sake of drama, “–it actually is.”

He can say whatever he wants; make up a name, give out the one that comes with his title, improvise something…he could’ve done anything, really. But then again, there is something about this man that makes him lose his self-control, a disturbing effect Ben experimented even when he didn’t personally know Hux and that made him go against so many rules during missions.

“My name is Ben Solo-Organa”, he says, straightening up. “And you should pay your respects as such.”

Hux’s brows go up for a second but they’re soon back to their apparently permanent scowl.

“So it's you! The little rascal that's been destroying my ships and that blew up my Starkiller Base. Such an honour to finally meet you, your Highness. I would bow for you but as you can see, there's not enough room in here for that,” Hux says, gesturing around him before he starts pacing slowly in his cell like a caged lion. “If I counted all the destroyed shuttles I've found with lightsabre marks on them, I'd go mad before I finished.”

Ben smirks under his mask. “Then perhaps you should’ve gotten more capable men.”

Hux’s gaze is fixed on Ben, his frown deep. “You think this is all your doing? No, no, there's plenty of hate for your friends as well! For that mediocre Dameron pilot and for the traitor you took in, and even for that scavenger scum that you all seem to be so fond of!”

At that point, something breaks in Ben. He can’t stand this unnerving man degrading the people he considers his family, but there’s something else too, something he can’t quite put his finger on that just makes him easily lose his mind around Hux.

Ben extends a hand forward and suddenly the air is thicker. Hux’s face starts turning red and it’s not long before he’s clawing at his neck, searching for hands that are not there. Ben is impassive under his mask as he keeps denying Hux the much needed air supply. Both his mother and his uncle would be horrified of him using his powers like this but he doesn’t care; Hux has a tendency of getting on his nerves like no-one ever has in his life and if that shorter redhead thinks he’s going to intimidate him, he’s got something else coming.

Hux’s face is impossibly red but his eyes are still very much defiant, daring Ben to take this to its ultimate consequences. The Jedi smiles and lets Hux go, the older man dropping to the floor and whizzing as he tries to regain his breath.

“Funny,” points Ben out. “I thought you were fond of strangulation.”

Hus isn’t amused at all with Ben’s latest remark but he doesn’t say anything, busy with trying to push enough air into his lungs. Ben considers this a victory and slowly stalks out of the place, suddenly questioning if that outburst was actually a good idea, especially telling Hux his real name. Wasn’t the whole point of the mask, according to Leia’s intentions at least, to protect his identity in case of any eventuality? After all, being the son of the Resistance’s General had fairly little advantages when it came to dealing with war criminals, which probably held vengeful ambitions.

Ben shrugged as he emerged from the improvised prison. What could Hux do with that information, objectively speaking? There were little chances he was ever going to leave that cell. In all the time he’d been locked up, there had been no attempts to retreat him, giving the impression that he was just as replaceable as anyone in the First Order. His chances of escaping then seemed quite slim, and that assuming that the Council intended to keep him alive, because as much as everyone praised themselves of purity in the Resistance, Ben wasn’t sure of how much they planned on restraining themselves when it came to punishing someone like Hux.

There was really nothing to be worried about. Besides, he could deal with any contingency, of that he was sure.

 

DAY 24

“How have you been feeling?”

Leia’s voice interrupts Ben at the door of the small conference room. They had just gone through a few plans and new information the Resistance had received from its allies and Ben already felt like he’d met his daily quota of being around people. On top of that, and as much as his mother liked including him in these meetings, he knew many people felt wary of his presence there.

_There are some things that shouldn’t be left for the Jedi to handle_ , he’d once heard a lieutenant say and since that moment, he’d been uncomfortable assisting. Despite all of it, he regarded his mother with a small smile.

“Fine, why?”

“Well, you’ve been spending so much time in the vaults that I assumed at least you’d be bored,” clarifies Leia with fondness.

_The vaults, of course_. “I’ve spent just as much as it’s required for my assignment,” replies Ben, knowing that his mother’s words have a deeper meaning. He could try and reach with the Force but he’d rather hear it expressed voluntarily.

Leia sighs. “Look, Ben, I just don’t want you engaging in anything more than what’s necessary with the prisoner, okay?”

“Why? ‘Cause you’re afraid he’ll get inside my head?” asks Ben, a little more defensively. “How many times do I have to tell all of you that I’m perfectly fine? I just give the man some food and check on him from time to time”.

“That’s not entirely true, according to my guards,” says Leia with a pointed look. “They saw you using the Force.”

“It was one time!” Ben defends himself, unable to believe what was happening. “He was getting too comfortable to be safe.”

“Just let us impart justice, Ben. Don’t try to do it on your own; you know where that leads to.” Leia grabs his arm and there’s severity in her eyes but also a silent plea.

Ben frowns but nods nonetheless. He heads down the hall to the kitchens of the base, where he picks up the tray that holds Hux’s food and that waits for him every day at this time. The Jedi grabs it forcefully and makes his way towards the “vaults”; he sometimes can’t believe the hypocrisy of his own people.

And his mother. How can she still doubt him? He’s seen that same pleading look in many people throughout his whole life: his uncle Luke, his mother’s acquaintances, his father…Everyone’s always been on edge, expecting the worst and no matter how many times he’s proved them wrong, they still fear that one day, he’ll suffer the same fate as his grandfather. The whole thing is just ridiculous. Sometimes, Ben wished they were all Force sensitive and could look inside him, so they could understand there’s no-one in the galaxy more devoted to the Light than him.

Ben is so caught up in his own thoughts that before he notices, he’s already in front of Hux’s cell, ready to push the tray inside and go because he’s really not in the mood for anything else today but the look on Hux’s face stops him. He seems confused, slightly amused but overall surprised and Ben can’t possibly begin to understand what the hell is wrong with him, until… _oh_.

Between Leia’s remarks and his own emotions, Ben had completely forgotten to put on the helmet. So there he is now, standing bare in front of Hux’s cell, being scrutinised by the General, who is back to his usual smug self. Ben tries to downplay his own surprise as he starts accommodating the contents of the tray in order to be able to pass it through the small space on the cell’s door designated for it.

“I knew it,” said Hux in that self-sufficient way of his. “This is the reason for the mask: no-one can take a threat seriously from a pretty face like that,” he concludes, the smugness not leaving his voice.

Ben is slightly taken aback by that last remark but he busies himself with the task at hand, trying not to give anything away and recurring to the lowest form of self-defence he knows: the one inherited from his father.

“Is that what happened to you, General?”

Hux smirks and narrows his eyes. “Smooth.”

“Yes, well, I officially couldn’t be a Solo if I weren’t.”

“My, my, aren’t you just a kid”, observes Hux, seemingly ignoring Ben’s comeback. “No wonder why you act like one.”

Hux’s words are meant to rile Ben up but they lack the heat. He’s staring at Ben, one hand on his chin, assessing him, measuring him, like a carnivore selecting its prey. Ben limits himself to placing the tray where it belongs and avoiding Hux’s eyes. He feels strangely exposed and as much as he managed to remain composed all this time, he’s starting to feel very uneasy.

Uncertainly, he shifts his gaze back to Hux. The General has never been wearing a mask but he might as well have for all the things Ben hadn’t really paid attention to. The first one is of course, the hair, so red that it seems like a source of light in itself. Then there’s the high cheekbones standing out on pale skin, or the very long fingers that stroke the chin, slightly covered in stubble. Then the freckles, almost too light to be noticed but that stand out under the annoyingly bright light in Hux’s cell. Yet what surprises Ben the most are those eyes that are not grey and not quite green either.

He’s a bit shocked when his mind feeds him an image from one of his missions: it’s from a ripped poster, half-hanging on a battered wall in one of the planets the First Order exerted control over. The poster depicts a man with perfect posture and a piercing gaze, his hair as red as fire…

Ben hadn’t realised he’d been staring until Hux makes a huffing noise. He resists the impulse to shake his head, but he pushes the tray further inside, not even waiting for Hux to properly grab it before rushing out of the place.

 

DAY 25

Ben sends someone else to Hux’s cell. He’s too busy tiring himself out in the training room of the base.

 

DAY 30

The sound of streaming water resonates inside each and every corner of Ben’s being. It’s been a while since he last meditated alongside Luke but his uncle tends to give him the peace of mind he usually can’t reach on his own. He breathes deeply as he feels the Force coursing through him, extending, emanating from him, reaching every other being, unnoticed.

“Something troubles you.” Luke’s voice breaks the silence and Ben can’t help but frown.

“I’m tired, uncle.”

“You’ve been training with your Knights exceptionally often. Perhaps you should take a break,” suggests Luke without opening his eyes. “Unless there is something else.”

Luke’s never pushed Ben, really; he takes whatever his nephew is willing to give him and doesn’t invade his mind unless they’re actually communicating through the Force. Perhaps it has to do with the fact that he’s always been able to read Ben without any aid, the Force or otherwise. Ben sighs.

“It’s the prisoner, isn’t it?” ventures Luke, knowing beforehand he’s right.

“Partially; my duty regarding him tends to be boring. Sometimes I wonder if there shouldn’t be someone else doing it. He’s not as dangerous as his reputation suggests.”

Luke remains quiet for a few seconds, taking in his nephew’s words but also his feedback through the Force. Ben would rather steer clear of this subject, mainly because he doesn’t know exactly what’s bothering him, let alone how to phrase it, but perhaps his uncle can see something he hasn’t.

“You’ve been directing too much energy towards this”, Luke points out and for one, Ben is grateful that this conversation is actually taking place with both their eyes closed, because he can feel heat rising to his face. “You need to refocus that energy”.

“I need to go on a mission,” agrees Ben.

“Don’t let your duty consume you, would be my advice.”

Ben finally opens his eyes, readying himself for standing up. “I won’t. Thanks, uncle,” he says and places a quick kiss over Luke’s head, who frowns but smiles nevertheless. This is precisely what he needed.

Luke is right. He’s been going over that fatidic day in which he went to see Hux unmasked for hours on end, looking for something without fully knowing what. He feels stupid for blowing his cover, despite the fact that he did that long before forgetting to put his helmet on and heading to the General’s cell. After that damnable slip, he reassumed his usual concealed appearance while performing his cell-keeper duty but it all felt like a joke under the current circumstances; even Hux had laughed when he’d seen him return with his face hidden under the helmet. Still, he’d felt the need to hide from that sharp, impossible-to-describe gaze.

But today wasn’t a day for hiding. Meditating with his uncle tended to give Ben a sense of certitude and confidence he couldn’t find elsewhere and he was determined to make use of it. So what if the damned General was the First Order’s poster boy? He surely couldn’t be that perfect if he was now lying in a dingy, little cell, awaiting some kind of resolution from his captors.

Ben smiles at that thought. He keeps on smiling as he comes to stand before Hux’s chamber, just to find the General doing some push-ups, legs bent at the knees for lack of space.

“What are you doing?” Ben asks in confusion, receiving a huff in response.

“Entertaining myself,” says Hux sarcastically, without looking up at Ben. “What does it look like? I’m exercising. I have to stay in shape even inside this bloody cage.”

“Why wasting your time? You don’t even know if you’re ever gonna get out of here alive.”

Hux stops his movement abruptly. He huffs again as he gets up from the floor, beads of sweat making his skin shine, his hair damp, and for a second, Ben’s proud smirk falters. The General crosses his arms over his chest and offers a triumphant smirk.

“That is just so when I finally do, I can go straight to your quarters and kill you.”

This seems to snap Ben out of his reverie, returning the smirk. “Well, I’d like to see you try. Surely an experienced Jedi is nothing for a man of your rank.”

Hux scrunches up his nose in defiance but his brain is already working on something else.

“So, we’re back to no-masks policy?”

“Figured it wouldn’t do much good to keep with the old one,” replies Ben, arranging the contents of the tray as he usually did and placing it by the small door. “After all, we’re very much familiar with each other by now.”

Hux scoffs and takes the tray from the other side. “You think you’re familiar with me, _Ben_?”

The Jedi ignores the bitterness and hands the tray to Hux. “Oh, yes; I’d even say I know you on a _personal_ level. Isn’t that what war does to men?”

A wheezy laugh escapes Hux. “Please, you’ve never seen real war, boy.”

“And I assume you have?”

“I’ve been living a war from the moment I was born into this mess of a galaxy. My father made sure of it.”

Ben pauses for a second. Hux’s features sport their customary self-sufficient aura but there is something else too, something that perhaps not even Hux knows he’s showing. Ben can’t stop his thoughts from wandering over to his own father, but he quickly supresses the memories.

“Then that just proves my point,” he concludes, his face giving nothing away. Hux is still staring, bewildered. “Enjoy the meal, General,” exclaims Ben and leaves without looking back.

 

DAY 37

After Ben’s strange confrontation with Hux following meditating with Luke, the General starts acting very differently, in an almost over-polite way, just as if he was an actual guest at the Organa’s state, forced to express his impeccable manners. He didn’t go as far as to thank Ben for the food but he hasn’t teased him either, opting instead for small talk. Ben doesn’t know what makes him more uncomfortable.

This time, he’s holding a tray of food that not even _he_ finds appealing when he discovers Hux’s cell is empty. Panic starts rising in his gut and he’s ready to start using the Force to find their star prisoner when he hears heavy footsteps coming down the hall.

Leading a group of three men, there is Poe Dameron, as dashing as usual if it wasn’t for the dark expression on his face. He looks like he hasn’t slept well and as if he’d rather be anywhere else but there.

Ben stares in disbelief as they come to a halt in front of the cell, realising that it’s Hux whom the three other men are holding, restraining. He looks just as sleep deprived as Dameron and Ben could swear those are bruises, but maybe he’s taking things too far.

Poe greets Ben with a nod and punches in the code to Hux’s cell, indicating the men to drop him inside. They exit as quickly as possible once Poe has activated the mechanism that will close the door. Ben hasn’t moved an inch and he watches them go as swiftly as they came.

When he turns back to Hux, the man’s head is hanging low; his breathing is more agitated than usual and his tiredness is apparent. His beard is also starting to show. Ben keeps on wondering how he ever manages to keep it at bay.

The younger man knocks on the cell’s small door with a canteen full of fresh water, drawing Hux’s attention, who extends his hand without leaving his bunk, just like he did the first day but this time not out of spite as much as it’s out of exhaustion. He drinks gratefully from the canteen and Ben busies himself with the tray’s contents until Hux almost finishes the water. He’s trying so hard to make himself invisible that Hux’s voice takes him by surprise.

“It doesn’t suit you, you know? Your name, I mean.”

Ben looks up cautiously. “Well, it obviously wasn’t my idea,” he says, looking back to the tray. “Although, there is one I did chose myself.”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets them. He doesn’t know why he’s even doing this, but the way Hux springs to attention encourages him.

“It’s Kylo, Master of the Knights of Ren. So technically, Kylo Ren.”

“Oh, your little Jedi gang?” inquires Hux. It’s obvious his neck is in pain but he’s doing his best to keep it straight.

“You know of them?”

“I’ve heard rumours, nothing more. Every time I found charred ships, some superstitious arsehole would mention something about a group of Force users, adding as many grim details as they could,” Hux shrugs, “I don’t know, I never really payed much attention to it.”

Ben doesn’t know what to say to that, so he puts the tray in its place and slides it in for Hux to take it. The General doesn’t even wait for him to go before he takes a bite of a pear, Ben’s eyes widening.

“Anyway”, says Hux around a bite of fruit. “That one definitely suits you better, _Ren,_ ” and the way it rolls off his tongue sends a traitorous shiver down Ben’s back.

This time, he physically shakes his head and waits no longer to get out of there, his mind racing. Once in his room, Ben knows he needs to meditate and prepares himself to do so. His last conscious thought is that yes, _maybe_ that name does suit him better.

 

DAY 38

They’re being sent on a mission and Ben couldn’t be more excited. He’s been wanting a break from life at the base for ages now. It’s nothing big, really, just a quick run to a small but strategic planet that the First Order has its eyes on, but it feels like a breath of fresh air for the Jedi Knight.

Once he steps on the planet, Ben feels relieved. His Knights have come with him and if everyone sticks to the plan, things should go just as smoothly as their intelligence sources had suggested. The weather is not particularly pleasant, yet Ben enjoys every second of it.

He’s heading to a canteen in which he’s supposed to meet one of their sources in order to put their plan into action, when he finds another one of those kriffing posters. Now that he actually knows the man depicted, they become all the more annoying.

Hux stares at him from the wall of the canteen, the smug smile substituted by a triumphant one, his stance powerful but inviting and his eyes holding a light that Ben doubts has ever existed in someone like the General. “Join the First Order today!” screams the poster and Ben can’t help but scowl; it seems that not even lightyears away from the Resistance’s base, he can escape Hux’s scrutiny. He briefly wonders what might be of the General at that precise moment but he quickly stops himself, heading for the entrance of the canteen instead and focusing on the present.

 

DAY 40

The mission ended up being much more complicated than the initial reports had suggested. Ben is near one of the First Order’s outposts, regrouping with his Knights when he receives an urgent message from General Organa herself. “Come back promptly,” it says, and Ben doesn’t know whether to feel angry or alarmed. It is crucial for the success of the mission that he can be here for his Knights, their bond as strong as usual, but if something serious happened at the base, or to his mother…

He goes over the plan once again with his Knights and lets the rest of the team know he has to leave, trying not to raise any more alarm; the fighters need clear minds to make a good job.

Ben pilots back to the base as fast as his shuttle allows him to. He wonders briefly if it hadn’t been wiser to take the whole team back since he didn’t even know what he’d be facing on his return, but he also didn’t want to throw away three-day’s work, especially when they were so close to fulfilling their objective.

When he arrives at the base, he expects to find chaos, but the only sign of something out of the ordinary is the incredible amount of tension around the base he can sense through the Force. Ben climbs out of his shuttle and is received by Leia, who seems slightly taken aback.

“What happened?” demands Ben without hesitation but the expression on his mother’s face is still one of confusion.

“Well, I must admit I didn’t expect you back this soon.”

Ben feels his head swim. “The status of your message was urgent and you asked me to come promptly. What was I supposed to do?”

“In my defence, I didn’t send the message, it was my assistant from my datapad,” clarifies Leia, attempting to calm Ben down. “Nevertheless, I do need you here. Two more of our men have been injured by our famous General.”

“What?” Ben could hardly believe the situation. “You brought me all the way back from a mission just because Hux is misbehaving?”

“Hey, Alioth almost died! And besides, your mission reports were very promising. I’m sure both the Knights and the team can handle everything just fine.”

“My Knights need me there,” mutters Ben, unable to help the anger rising inside of him. _Patience and control_ would be Luke’s words but right now, Ben finds little comfort in them. “I’m going to get this over with once and for all,” he determines and stalks off towards the equipment storages, being closely followed by Leia.

The vaults are unusually restless, some guards crowding the entrance and addressing each other in whispers. Ben enters the place with resolve, mask on and holding what he expects will make his work easier. To hell with sentient beings’ rights; Hux deserves none of that.

His footsteps resonate through the halls and as soon as he’s close to Hux’s cell, he can hear that smug voice mocking him.

“Ah, there he is! I was beginning to worry,” starts Hux, hands clasped behind his back. “Oh, and about that guard of yours? Nothing personal. I just wanted to see you.”

Ben stands before the cell, immobile, his rage barely contained. Leia soon catches up with him, staring Hux down as well.

“General Organa, what an unexpected pleasure.”

The criminal seemed particularly cheerful but Ben had no time for his games.

“Back off.”

“What?”

“I said back off before I get you out of the way myself.”

Ben’s voice comes out even more threatening through his helmet’s modulator and Leia looks apprehensively at him, but goes to key in the cell’s code nevertheless. Hux meanwhile has gone to stand to the far wall of his cell, where Ben Force-pins him to the ground before finally opening the door and entering the place. He walks to the other side of the room, placing a small camera right at the top corner and securing it there.

“If you try to touch it, you’ll be electrocuted,” he warns as he exits the cell, locking the door behind him.

“Well, now you have General TV 24/7. Isn’t it grand?”

Hux’s comment stops Ben on his tracks. He turns slowly and slams a hand on the cell’s door, making Hux flinch.

“I am going to be the one in charge of this camera and I’ll be watching you all the time. And if you ever attempt anything, no matter how small, I’ll come here and make sure there’s no need for a trial anymore.”

The Jedi then turns around, leaving Hux to his own devices. As soon as he’s out of the vaults, Ben takes off his helmet, taking a deep breath. His mother stands looking at him with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. Still, Ben can sense that she’s not extremely pleased with what just went on.

“You know I wouldn’t have done this if there had been any other possible course of action,” he says, holding his helmet like a shield in front of him.

Leia sighs. “I absolutely understand the camera Ben, but threatening him?”

“For Force’s sake, you tortured him!” he explodes, almost crushing the helmet between his hands.

“We didn’t; my people simply interrogated him. And you know perfectly well that I don’t approve all of the Tribunal’s dispositions, but he _is_ a war criminal.”

“Exactly”, replies Ben and decides the conversation is over. He’s already lost too much time with this whole matter and he needs to check on his Knights.

On the walk back to the main building, Ben can’t help but wonder if he’s the only capable person in the entire Resistance. How could the guard be as inept as to get close enough to Hux to get his head bashed against the cell’s door? Why couldn’t anyone manage to get that man under control? It wasn’t like Ben had to constantly use the Force to keep him in line, and yet everyone else seemed too incompetent to perform such a simple task as bringing food to a prisoner.

Also, and despite the constant mockery and the sarcastic remarks, Hux didn’t seem to be particularly disrespectful towards him. Could it be that the General actually held the slightest amount of respect for Ben Solo? He snorts at the thought. Of course Hux doesn’t respect him; he’s just noticed exactly the same incompetence of the personnel that Ben has and exploits it. He must surely know about uselessness, with all the people he had to boss around in the First Order and whatnot…

While entering the main building, Ben decides to put a stop to that train of thought. The Force forbid he might start feeling any kind of _empathy_ towards the General.

 

DAY 44

“So where do you project my adventures, the main hall?”

Ben regards Hux with an unamused look. He’s just finishing arranging the contents of the tray in order to hand it to the ginger.

“I already told you; I’m the only one with access to that camera’s feed.”

“What a disturbing bit of information,” observes Hux while accepting the tray. “You can watch me rot away any time, any day.”

“That’s the idea. You’re not here on vacation, you’re a prisoner.”

“Remarkable understatement, Jedi,” retorts Hux, picking at his food distractedly. “I wonder at what time you sleep, _if_ you ever do. Perhaps you wait up until I fall asleep, watching my every move on your private channel…” Ben sees Hux’s hands sliding over the tray almost delicately, his voice low. “Maybe you even watch me in my sleep, wondering what people like me dream of, what a man of my power could possibly desire.”

Ben lets out a broken snort. “All that power is gone.”

“Oh, my power in the First Order certainly is. But there are many more kinds of agency, _Kylo Ren._ ”

The Knight’s head snaps up at the appellative and he suddenly finds it hard to swallow. Hux’s eyes are now on him, staring in that weird way of his that seems both cold and heated at the same time. Ben wants to leave but he doesn’t want Hux to have the upper hand; besides, he feels slightly unable to.

After what seems like an eternity, Hux lowers his gaze and starts picking at his food again. Ben doesn’t wait for him to look back up.

The Jedi goes about his day as smoothly as he can. His last encounter with Hux left him feeling uneasy; the General’s words weren’t precisely alarming but they held a deeper meaning that Ben wasn’t sure he understood, or that he ever wanted to understand.

The day passes by and finally, after a few extra hours of meetings and briefings, Ben can retreat to his quarters, entering them with a sigh of relief. He doesn’t have many possessions so the room is scarcely furnished, but it’s like a sanctuary to him. He’s taking off his robes and putting on some loose pants to sleep in when the feed of Hux’s cell catches his attention.

The General has a very strict schedule, almost as if he actually had a way to measure time inside his cell. He usually wakes up and goes to bed at the exact same time, yet tonight he’s still up. He’s pacing around his cell, waiting for something; Ben doesn’t even have to reach with the Force to know his mind is going at light speed.

Abruptly, he stops, dropping himself onto bed. He usually sleeps with his head towards the side of the room where the camera lies, hiding his face under the blanket, but tonight he’s lying on the opposite side, full body facing the camera.

Everything seems normal, besides from the odd sleeping position. Ben stares at the image in front of him, trying to determine the conditions that provoked the change, when he sees the General move.

At first, the movement is subtle, almost imperceptible, though soon it becomes obvious enough to hold Ben’s full attention. Hux is letting his hand slide over his thigh, starting slowly until it becomes a more insistent, rhythmical movement. While the General’s left hand is busy, his right hand creeps under his shirt in an unhurried fashion.

Ben knows he probably shouldn’t be watching; he can see Hux’s chest rising more frequently as his breathing accelerates, the rhythm of his left hand speeding up. He can also see a slight blush creeping up the General’s cheeks.

In a trice, Hux’s hand is inside his trousers and Ben is certain he should turn off the feed altogether but he can’t seem to take his eyes off the screen. Now Hux’s lips are slightly parted, his back arching faintly from the bed and suddenly, the atmosphere in Ben’s room seems to have heated up as well. He’s already experiencing a tightening of his pants, refusing to acknowledge it.

Hux’s blush has extended from his cheeks to his chest and he’s bucking his hips up in turn with his hand’s movement. His eyes are closed and his lips are moving but the noise is too low to be picked up by the camera and Ben is dying to know what he’s thinking, so he lets himself reach out. Hux’s mind is not a mess by any means but it is slightly foggy at the moment, waves of pleasure overwhelming it. Ben doesn’t dare to go deeper in fear of being noticed but the feedback from the surface is enough to send his own senses reeling.

Hux is not worried he might get caught by a night guard; on the contrary, he almost seems to entertain the thought of it, his skin prickling with pleasure. A few images run through his muddled conscience but they’re so fragmented that Ben can hardly pick them up without making his presence noticed. Still, he’s able to catch glimpses of dark hair and pale skin, a few scattered moles and a pair of very familiar lips and…

_Ren-_

Ben retreats immediately, his pulse speeding up both from the pleasure and the sudden call. He’s about to definitely turn off the feed when he realises the name he heard wasn’t exactly a call, at least not one formally addressed to him. Slowly, he tunes back to Hux’s conscience and there it is again, his chosen name, repeating itself over and over in the General’s mind. Could it be…?

The images are suddenly clearer and it takes all of Ben’s willpower not to immediately succumb to them, now painfully hard under his clothes. He can see Hux’s teeth sinking in pale skin, _his_ skin, just as long, cold fingers tangle in his hair and pull.

Ben is a Jedi; he’s not used to surrendering to his impulses but this is too overwhelming and he desperately needs friction. He’s probably going to regret this once he regains some presence of mind but right now, this is all he needs. He dips a bit further into Hux’s mind, marvelling on the vividness of the images concealed there, almost feeling those teeth on his neck and those nails on his back.

He’s barely started touching himself when the full extent of Hux’s climax takes him by surprise. The General shivers as he comes down, chest heaving. And then, he starts laughing. Ben is completely taken aback by this reaction; he’s not an expert in this matters but he’s pretty sure this is not a common one.

Hux keeps on laughing and now his chest is heaving due to a completely different reason. He then looks straight at the camera and Ben can feel the heat on his face, this time out of anger. Hux is beaming, just as if the bastard could sense Ben’s embarrassment.

“Sweet dreams, Ren,” Hux says in an almost confidential tone and Ben pushes the screen off the table, fully enraged now.

The Knight flops on his bed and curls up in it, turning his back to the room. Hux’s laugh still echoes in his head and he can’t believe he actually fell for the whole damn game. An angry tear runs down his cheek as Ben does his best to erase that laughter from his mind. It’s going to be a long night.

 

DAY 45

When he wakes up, the first thing Ben notices is the headache. He had a dreadful night and the last thing he wants to do is get out of bed, but there are matters to attend and he can’t just block the entire world out. Better get to it already then.

Once it’s time to bring Hux his food, Ben hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether he should send someone else in his place but concluding that doing so would only mean admitting defeat, and he’s not about to give Hux the satisfaction. The Jedi has to make a conscious effort to school his expression before entering the vaults.

“There you are. I wonder what’s on the barely edible menu of today.”

Hux is his usual poised self and for a moment, Ben thinks he’s going to throw up due to all the violent emotions rushing through him. However, he manages to keep himself together as Hux continues his speech in a conversational manner, as if they weren’t two strangers forced to interact out of habit rather than actual interest.

“I know you people tend to reject most ‘bourgeois’ concepts, but really, enjoying good food doesn’t make you a snob.”

“Just get the tray and shut up,” says Ben, ignoring Hux’s words and pushing the tray in violently.

“And here I thought we were already over this whole extreme hostility stage, especially after what we shared yesterday. You know, most people would say we’re both past certain boundaries by now--”

Hux was interrupted by the vice-like grip on his throat, his face turning red almost immediately.

“You’d be wise to remember who you’re dealing with,” started the Jedi, the cell’s walls trembling under his power. “I come from one of the most powerful lineages in the galaxy, and I will not hesitate to use that power at my will. You are no General here; you are _my_ prisoner, and you should know I can take whatever I want.”

Without a second thought, Ben starts pushing against Hux’s mind, searching. For what he’d heard, the redheaded wasn’t a particularly talkative prisoner and no-one had managed to extract too much valuable information out of him, and Ben thought it was time for the tables to turn.

In his superficial browsing, he finds the location of a few stationed ships, memorising it. The power is overwhelming; he had never felt so open to the Force before, not without meditating, and the energy rush is almost dizzying. He then finds himself in a dark room with big transparisteel panels. The stars are visible through it, seemingly very close and Ben assumes the room must be in a ship. The place is neutrally decorated, no elements in sight to give away who inhabits it; it feels too impersonal to belong to a child, yet it is precisely a pale, freckled boy the one who’s staring out the viewports. Ben turns and catches a glimpse of a taller figure, fiery hair gleaming in the dark and the calm that was enveloping the child transforms into tension, apprehension, _fear_ …

Ben feels a sudden impulse to reassure the child, to tell him everything’s going to be alright, that he’s not alone, when he feels Luke’s presence in his own mind, making him gasp and stop in his tracks. He retreats so quickly from Hux’s mind that he elicits a pained scream from the man, his own discomfort expressed with a tired groan. He lets go of his prisoner entirely and flees the vaults as fast as he can. On his way out, he can hear Hux’s angry screams.

“You’re not a saint, Solo! You’re even worse than _me_!”

*****

“It’s a dangerous path the one you’re treading, boy.”

Ben can’t say he’s surprised by his uncle’s reception. He immediately headed to his cot after practically running away from the vaults. Luke’s expression is one of mixed feelings; at first sight, he seems angry but Ben can also sense a deep hurt. When he comes closer, his look is almost pleading. Ben’s not too distant from that.

“Uncle, I’m sorry, I don’t--”

“Ben!” Luke raises a hand. “This is not the Jedi way!”

“I know, and I’m sorry, but everyone’s growing restless. We’re barely getting any information and he’s not exactly a good person--”

“Whatever that man has done, it doesn’t justify doing that to him.”

“It was just ships,” Ben tries, because that was what he’d wanted all along. He didn’t mean to pry any further.

“Didn’t look like ‘just ships’ to me,” says Luke, but he turns around to put some water to boil. “You know what I did when I found my father, Ben?”

The younger Solo bows his head. “Yes, uncle. You told me about that since the beginning of my training.”

“It was a rhetorical question,” replies Luke over his shoulder as he takes two cups out. “When I first found myself before Vader, I didn’t know what to think. I had heard countless of tales about how evil he was, about all the wrong he had done, but I also knew there was more to him than that.”

Ben accepts one of the cups when he’s handed it and seats across from his uncle. He sips from the steaming cup and all the dread seems to slowly go away. When he looks up, Luke is staring right at him.

“I could never bring myself to kill him, not really. I always thought that if Ben had forgiven him, how couldn’t I, being his own flesh and blood?” The older Jedi never broke eye-contact with his nephew. “Anger is never the way, Ben. It consumes you, leaving nothing recognisable behind. So whatever that man did to cause you despair can’t surely be that consequential to risk straying from the Light.”

“It’s not,” admitted Ben, suddenly feeling ashamed.

“Search your feelings, boy. The answer is usually there,” replied his uncle, drinking from his own cup. “Now, how about a game of Dejarik for old time’s sake?”

 

DAY 46

Hux is not in his cell but Poe’s resting right outside of it, a gloomy expression on his face.

“He’s being isolated right now. I opposed, as well as your mother, but some people believe we’re losing more than we get with him and that some _corrective measures_ were in order…” the pilot trails off, shaking his head.

Ben stares at the empty cell for a minute before nodding sympathetically towards Poe and leaving the vaults, the full tray still in his hands.

 

DAY 57

Right after his evening meditation, Ben is approached by one of the younger officers. It’s been a particularly busy day between training and planning; some new intel’s being processed and all details must be cleared before proceeding.

The younger man informs Ben that Hux is back in his cell and that he can resume his usual duties. Ben is not as surprised by this as he is by his own reaction; he feels a shiver run down his back and there’s a small spark of something unnameable in his gut, spark that he refuses to acknowledge.

It feels odd to stand outside Hux’s cell after all this time, and it’s even stranger to find the General covered in his blanket, just like that first day. For a moment, Ben can barely bring himself to make any noise. He knows Hux has been completely isolated from all human contact for an entire week, and although he underwent something similar during his Jedi training, he could always rely on the Force not to feel disconnected of everything and everyone. Hux on the other hand is not even remotely Force-sensitive…

“Enjoying the view?”

Ben frowns, his musings interrupted. Of course the General would have a sarcastic comment to ruin it all. Ben almost feels silly for taking pity on the imprisoned man.

Hux snorts at the lack of answer. “I should’ve known you’d be the kind to enjoy these things,” he says as he gets up from his cot. “For people who boast about disapproving of violence, you’re quite adept of the psychological modality.”

“I don’t--” starts Ben, but he soon realises he didn’t have much to say. The General must had realised too, because he only shakes his head and approaches the small pass-through door.

There’s something different in Hux. He’s slimmer and Ben could swear he looks even paler than before, if that is even possible. He also seems to have trouble walking, as if he’d been tangled for such a long while that now walking seemed foreign. The slightest peek at his mind reveals the older man, curled in on himself in a place Ben doesn’t recognise, but he withdraws before going any deeper.

“Oh no, by all means, take a look,” says Hux, unamused and Ben doesn’t know where he gets the strength to act like that, though it’s evident that he’s extremely tired up to this point.

Hux places both hands on the sides of the tray but doesn’t move. Ben stares for a beat and is about to just leave when he hears a sigh escape Hux’s lips.

“Wait,” he whispers and Ben freezes. His heart is racing and he’s sure his face must be the very picture of confusion. He looks into Hux’s eyes and he can’t believe what he sees there: there’s annoyance, weariness, despair, but overall, pleading, something that perhaps not even Hux realises he’s projecting.

“I--” Hux tries again, still at a loss for words.

Ben, on his part, remains quiet, almost hypnotised. Slowly, he lets his hand slide over the tray in Hux’s direction and the General reacts immediately, sliding his own. A small gasp escapes Hux’s lips when their fingers make contact but Ben hardly notices; he’s too focused on the cold fingers brushing his own, twisting and moulding themselves against him.

Hux’s eyes are glued to that point of contact, seemingly mesmerised by it. Although Ben knew it was a possibility the General would be touch-starved after his isolation, he didn’t think Hux could go as far as to seek contact from the very person he was always confronting. Yet, the Jedi can’t help the way he absentmindedly caresses that pale wrist, eliciting a shudder from the man before him, who grips Ben’s hand tighter.

Suddenly, the memories of the night in which Ben had watched Hux through the camera come to him and Ben withdraws his hand. The sudden loss leaves Hux fazed, his gaze snapping back up at Ben.

“I--”, Ben tries, but the words die in his throat. “This is… I can’t”.

And just as quickly, Ben’s gone. 4 hours later, right before going to bed, he’ll still be able to feel Hux’s hand on his.

 

DAY 60

“You seem different.”

Ben opens his eyes slowly to find Rey staring at him, the intensity of her gaze enough to break his concentration. He sighs.

“We’re meditating. Don’t get distracted.”

“I mean it, Ben. You seem a little off to me.”

“I’m just stressed,” he admits, giving up and opening his eyes for good this time. “Your connection with the Force has become deeper.”

Rey smiled. “One doesn’t have to be Force sensitive to realise, you know? And don’t change the subject. What troubles you?”

Ben sighs again. He tends to do that around Rey. “I’m the one supposed to ask those questions, remember? On the other hand, I never imagined looking over a prisoner would be this draining.”

“You mean Hux? But he’s become so quiet under your care,” observes Rey. “There haven’t been any incidents since you’ve been watching over him regularly.”

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean it’s not tiring. The man’s got a way to get under anyone’s skin…”

“Anyone’s, really?”

Ben looks back at Rey. There’s an odd expression on her face, and a particularly infuriating one as well; it’s just like when they were kids and she knew something he didn’t. It always threw Ben off balance, regardless of how little it was.

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asks, bewildered, but Rey only shrugs.

“It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. I was merely wondering why you felt that way. Maybe once you know why, you can fix it.”

“Maybe we should limit ourselves to meditating,” replies Ben, closing his eyes once again and ignoring Rey’s frown.

He doesn’t know why this whole conversation makes him so uneasy, though Ben suspects it has a lot to do with the fact that Hux seems to be the primary topic in his life nowadays. His whole day revolves around the General and his petty routine; his name ends up creeping in every conversation, his face present in Ben’s every waking hour and sometimes even during sleep. There’s a specific image that haunts him: the touch of cold, pale hands over his, the deep green of distant eyes, the fiery red of locks that Ben desperately wants to feel…

It makes absolutely no sense. Hux is a prisoner, and a wicked one at that. There’s no reason why Ben should care about him, or seek for his presence through the Force when they’re apart, or indulge him in his small whims. And yet, Ben does. And he’s eager to hear that voice say his chosen name again.

*****

“I demand a razor.”

Hux’s voice echoes in the vaults as he sits picking at his food, the request making Ben snort.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me alright. I demand an instrument to get rid of my facial hair. I’d like to keep as much dignity as I still can in this situation.”

“Is that why you’ve been so polite these days?” asks Ben, amused. “Well, as you probably suspect, I can’t let you have a razor to yourself…” Hux is about to protest but Ben cuts him off with a gesture, slightly impressed when Hux actually obeys. “Still, that doesn’t mean I can’t supervise the process.”

Hux gives him a wary look but nods nevertheless. The Knight nods back before leaving his place against the wall.

“I’ll be back once you’ve finished your meal,” he assures and heads out to fetch what he needs. He doesn’t exactly know what he’s doing or even if he should, but he concludes it hurts nobody to let the man have his way with this, and if he actually dares to try anything, Ben can easily control him anytime.

While he’s selecting a razor, Ben takes a moment to ponder over something he hadn’t really payed attention to before: Hux was actually eating, eating in front of him. He usually does it in a calm manner, as if he had all the time in the world and truly enjoyed what he’s served. Ben is not sure since when has this been happening, but he suspects it must’ve started around the time their interactions grew from a couple of words to a few interchanged phrases –which weren’t one-sided for once– and that became more abundant as days passed by. Ben can’t deny he enjoys those interactions, and isn’t that the Jedi way? Being merciful to everyone, regardless of who they are?

As he walks back to Hux’s cell, he wonders if he should alert anyone about what he’s about to do but ends up dismissing the thought altogether when he finds the General sitting at the edge of his bunk. Ben finds it hard to supress a smile. He doesn’t even have to brush Hux’s mind to know he gets comfort out of these small, everyday things. They remind him of the life he used to have and Ben is curious about how that life must’ve been like, though he’s sensible enough not to ask. He sees Hux tense visibly when he starts entering the code to his cell’s door.

“What are you doing?”

“You didn’t really think I was gonna let you wield a razor around on your own, did you?” Ben replies uninterested and Hux remains immobile. “Step back. Don’t make me secure you in place.”

Hux does as he’s told, more out of confusion than actual fear of Ben’s threat. The Jedi enters the cell right after pressing the button meant to close the door behind him.

“Are you really doing this?” inquires Hux in a low voice. “How are you supposed to get out?”

Ben gives him an unimpressed look. “I’m a Jedi, remember?” he says as he places the utensils he retrieved on Hux’s cot. There’s a bowl with warm water, a towel, a sponge, some shaving cream, a small bottle of scented lotion and of course, the razor that is still in Ben’s hands. “If you try anything, I won't even bother using the Force. Now sit.”

Hux seems to still be in a confused daze but he also remains cautious, his eyes never leaving the hand holding the razor. Ben puts it momentarily in his robes as he gets the shaving cream and applies some of it on his hand.

The first contact of Ben’s hands with the General’s skin makes Hux gasp, just as he had when he’d grazed the Jedi’s fingers a few days ago. His whole body looks tense, yet it doesn’t take long before Ben can feel Hux’s heartbeat slow down. When he’s satisfied with the application of the cream, he takes out the razor and places it on Hux’s jaw, sliding it up.

“I didn’t know you--”

“Don’t move,” says Ben, holding Hux’s head in place when he started turning it towards him. The ginger huffs.

“I was saying that I didn’t know Jedi changed their names. I thought that was more of a Sith thing, but then again, all those Force matters have always been confusing.”

“We don’t,” replies Ben as he slides the razor over Hux’s cheek. “But we made an exception for the sake of symbolism. Both my uncle and I agreed it would be good to create a greater sense of community between the Knights; they were the more difficult pupils, so being a part of something and working as a team helped a lot for focusing”.

Hux quirks his lips faintly. “And they answer to you?”

“Not entirely. Luke is still their Master; I just offer extra guidance.”

“ _Their_ Master…” repeats Hux, considering the implication. Ben raises an eyebrow but the General ignores it. “I should be worried you’re willingly sharing all of this information with me.”

“How so?”

“It means I’m never going to get out of here.”

All of a sudden, that strange look is back in Hux’s eyes, the one Ben had seen the first time the prisoner had been questioned and the same with which he had looked at the Jedi before locking fingers with him. It showed a deeper dimension of Hux, one beyond the ruthless First Order officer everyone knew him to be. Ben wonders how many people have seen it already.

“What about your family?” Ben snaps back to reality, confused. Hux clears his throat. “I mean, you’ve stated who they are, but I have a sense there’s something peculiar about you.”

It’s Ben’s turn to snort. “That may be because you’re a prisoner and I don’t tend to discuss family matters with First Order personnel. And what do you mean by _peculiar_?”

“Your mother, General Organa, she…you seem tense around her,” starts Hux, staring ahead. “I’m sure it’s not something new, rather than a habit; you’re too alike, character-wise, and you tend to disagree. On the other hand, you two grew up in different worlds, no matter how much both the Resistance and the Order insist on comparing imperial days to these, however different the reasons for it may be.”

“I didn’t know you were so observant,” says Ben, only half-mocking.

Hux shrugs. “What can I say? I’m good at reading people. Besides, I’ve got lots of time to think nowadays.”

Ben can’t help smiling at that. “You’re not that far off from reality, General. How about _your_ family?”

Hux remains quiet for a while, ultimately sighing. “My father was a Commandant, my mother a pilot. Family dinners were awkward.”

“That’s something I can empathise with.”

Ben’s smile is now completely genuine. He’s almost finished using the razor and he gives one last sweeping motion that makes Hux wince.

“Oh, sorry,” Ben rushes for the towel and wets one of the corners, gently pressing it against the fresh cut. He briefly glances at the General’s eyes, which are the less cold he’s ever seen them.

“You’re gaping,” mentions Hux, making Ben immediately straighten up and head for the sponge to dip it in the bowl. He lets it glide over Hux’s face and now the General’s eyes are once again closed; oddly enough, he really seems to enjoy this ritual.

After the small incident with the razor, they remain in companionable silence, Ben finishing the process by putting some lotion on Hux. He supposes prisoners shouldn’t be allowed such comforts, but as far as unorthodox imprisonment methods go, this couldn’t get any more bizarre.

Ben’s hands glide over Hux’s skin, massaging the spot right where his ears connect with his jaw and the man can’t supress a low noise of approval. From his vantage point, the Knight can see Hux’s chest peeking out from the V of his shirt, a few freckles standing out, and he feels a sudden urge to let his hands travel lower from the General’s neck to that lean expanse of white skin.

It’s difficult to tell how much time has passed since Ben started applying the oil, but this is clearly turning into something much more risky and he should take his hands off Hux, he _has_ to tear them away and he’s mustering the willpower to do so when a hand stops him.

Hux’s eyes are open now and staring back at Ben, a hand that shouldn’t be familiar wrapped around the Knight’s wrist. He’s standing right in front of the cot, Hux’s legs pressed to his.

Slowly, Hux stands up until he is face to face with Ben, his deep green eyes devouring the younger man. And just as unexpectedly, Hux leans in.

At first, Ben is completely taken aback and it takes him a few seconds to respond, but when he does, he finds he cannot stop. It’s as if something is pulling him, as if the one who had actual control of the Force was the General and not Ben, and was now using that power to bend the Jedi’s will.

Hux’s lips are slightly chapped, though Ben barely notices. He’s lost in the sensation of the redhead’s hand creeping up his neck, the heat of the body before him, the tentative touches of tongue. When he grants Hux entrance, he feels his head start to swim.

Ben had kissed only two people in his life: one girl, confirming he wasn’t really interested in them, and one boy, after which all his doubts were dissipated. But as nice as it had been sneaking out of a family reunion just to kiss his mother’s guests’ handsome son, it hadn’t made him feel like the ground had been removed from under him.

He’s letting his fingers tangle in the mess of fiery hair when he feels a couple of hands set on his chest, pushing him away gently. 

“Perhaps…perhaps you should go,” says Hux, a bit breathless.

Ben frowns, infuriated. “What? You…you can’t just kiss someone and then implicitly kick them out!”

“That’s because I shouldn’t have kissed you. Now go, you surely have business to attend.”

Hux dismisses Ben with a gesture of his hand and he can feel his face heating in anger. He storms out regardless, taking the shaving stuff with him and locking Hux's cell behind.

When he arrives in his room, Ben is almost hyperventilating. The space feels cramped, as if he were still inside Hux’s cell. He pats down his pockets in a moment of panic, thinking he left the razor back at the cell or that maybe the General managed to get it from his robes as they kissed but he finds the sharp object in the exact place where he put it.

He glances at the feed from Hux’s cell and feels the sudden urge to send the new monitor to the ground just like the last one. He can’t believe he actually fell for that man’s tricks, so basic, so rudimentary, a vulgar strategy that ultimately gave Hux whatever it was he was looking for.

But Ben knows that’s not quite true. Regardless of Hux’s intentions, the Knight hadn’t been “tricked” into anything; he had willingly entered the General’s lockup, shaved him, let his hands roam freely, covered those lips with his…he doesn’t know what’s scarier, if knowing he isn’t powerful enough to resist such a basic form of seduction or the fact that he had some responsibility in the matter. After all, what was Ben’s goal when he decided to concede the man this wish? What was _he_ looking for?

Ben paces around for a while, trying to calm his mind to meditate, to sleep, but his thoughts keep on going back to the feelings he experienced while kissing the General. He’s about to just give up and relieve his frustration in a violent manner when something snaps inside of him.

Whenever something Hux-related happens, he always runs away, as if he were the one to blame; no matter what it is, Ben always leaves, because it’s the one thing Hux can’t do, yet it doesn’t feel like a victory as it does like a coward move. Well, Ben’s had enough of holding back.

In the vaults, Hux is getting ready to sleep. He’s lying in his bed, one hand behind his head and staring at the ceiling when he hears steps coming down the corridor. His whole body tenses, wondering who could possibly want to come down this late as he sits up, just to find a familiar face approaching his cell.

“Ren?” He asks but receives no answer. The Jedi limits himself to fiddle with the security system of the cell while Hux watches him wide-eyed, the door opening after a few seconds.

“What the--”

Hux barely has time to stand up before Ren’s lips are clashing with his, the Knight’s hands gripping Hux’s hips. He is slightly overwhelmed at the beginning, unable to keep up with Ben’s frantic pace, but as the kiss progresses, he eases into it, tangling his fingers in the Jedi’s hair.

Hux’s back is flush against the wall but the heat emanating from Ben and the one spreading through his own body is enough to prevent him from noticing the coldness of the surface. Ben’s mouth travels down Hux’s chin and over his jaw, just to settle on his neck, pressing kisses and bites to it, his tongue darting out to soothe the spots where bruises are forming. Hux pulls on Ben’s hair to redirect him back to his mouth for another desperate kiss, his free hand going straight for the taller man’s neck.

When Hux throws one of his legs over Ben’s hips, he grips it firmly against his own body and ruts forward, eliciting a gasp from the General, whose chest is now fully flushed. He pushes Hux’s shirt collar aside in order to access more of that reddened skin, kissing it, biting and sucking at Hux’s collarbones.

It’s not long before Ben is fully supporting Hux’s weight against the wall, both of the redhead’s legs wrapped around Ben’s waist and he feels his head swimming all over again. There’s heat spreading through his body and he’s hyperaware of the presence before him, of every little gesture and sound Hux makes, of the blood flowing freely through his veins, of his accelerated heartbeat…just as if the link Ben has with the Force had been completely open, no barriers at all separating him from the wholeness of it. It’s both too much and not enough, so he works on getting rid of Hux’s shirt.

Soon after, Hux’s lips find his again and Ben has only a few seconds to assess that some spots of the General’s torso are covered in freckles, the small constellations contrasting with the usual paleness of that smooth skin. Hux pulls angrily at Ben’s own tunic and he can feel the frustration of his companion through the open Force link, making him smile; Hux is always so controlled and detached that even the slightest expression of emotion comes as a shock for Ben, let alone such an evident display.

Ben can feel his own erection straining against his trousers and he finds the friction he’s currently getting is not nearly enough. But then Hux’s hand is snaking down between them, cupping the bulge in Ben’s trousers and he can’t hold back a whimper. The older man smirks as he bites his companion’s ear, his hand stroking Ben torturously slow. He bucks his hips and Hux stops, making the Knight sigh in frustration, whereas Hux only laughs. Ben wonders how Hux can laugh even with the erection he’s sporting, but his train of thought is soon quietened when the General’s hand is back on him.

Hux teases him a bit further, licking Ben’s ear-shell and nipping at it, the spot in Ben’s trousers wet with pre-cum growing. Suddenly, Hux’s hand is inside his trousers and Ben moans, making the older man smirk, though it’s hard to take his sufficiency seriously with his erection pressed to Ben’s.

The much needed friction is all it takes for Ben to start panting. He also has to make an effort not to drop Hux due to the fact that his legs suddenly feel like jelly. He sinks his teeth in the ginger’s collarbone to prevent himself from moaning shamelessly once again, making Hux hiss.

Slowly, Ben starts rutting against Hux’s hand, who in turn presses himself impossibly further against the Knight, seeking his own pleasure against his hip. Though Ben is enjoying this immensely, he yearns to feel more of Hux’s skin.

The General seems to pick up on his desperation and after a few more minutes of teasing, he undoes both his fly and Ben’s and takes both lengths in hand. Ben’s knees buckle when Hux starts stroking them simultaneously, and the redhead is forced to disentangle one of his legs for support. Meanwhile, Ben reclaims his mouth in a demanding fashion, his tongue sliding over Hux’s lips as he places a hand over his cheek.

As he kisses Hux and ruts in time with his strokes, he inserts his thumb inside the General’s mouth, who makes an obscene noise deep in his throat. Beads of sweat make their naked chests slide against each other easily and Ben revels in the feeling of Hux’s breath on the side of his neck.

He glances up to find Hux’s eyes half open, mouth slightly agape and his cheekbones flushed. It’s an indescribable sight. The air seems to vibrate as if it were charged with electricity and soon everything becomes too overwhelming and Ben comes, being closely followed by Hux.

They stay like that for a few minutes, trying to regain their breaths, Ben’s head resting in the crook of Hux’s neck and the ginger finally standing on both his legs. They’re still pressed against the wall and the coldness of it feels like a blessing now against their overheated skins. Hux tucks himself in and slowly starts sliding to the ground. Ben follows him until they’re both sitting with their backs against the wall, shoulders pressed against each other.

“Well that was certainly not the outcome I had foreseen,” comments Hux but Ben is still too spent to actually form words, so he rests his head against Hux’s shoulder instead. Surprisingly, Hux actually presses his head back for a few seconds.

“What I wouldn’t give for a cigarette,” continues the General absentmindedly.

“You smoke?”

“Well, I did. You don’t get many chances in here,” he replies and Ben smiles. It’s the first time one of Hux’s remarks doesn’t sound like a real complaint.

After a few more minutes on the floor, Hux decides he’s had enough of it and gets up, grabbing his shirt on the way and heading for his cot, letting himself fall on it. When Ben eyes him warily, he pats the spot next to him.

The Knight sits on the bed, back to Hux. “I can’t stay here,” he warns, but makes no move to get up.

“I know”, replies Hux, soft-voiced.

After a few more minutes of debating with himself, Ben picks up his clothes and exits the cell, making sure the door is effectively locked behind him. Guilt doesn’t settle in until he’s back in his room, shutting his eyes tightly and vowing not to do this again.

 

DAY 70

Hux and Ben are lying in the cell’s cot, their breathings ragged after just another shared orgasm. The cot is not nearly big enough to hold the both of them together, especially with how bulky Ben actually is, but they lie on their sides, facing each other in order to make themselves as thin as possible, which in Hux’s case is not that hard, Ben thinks.

He always thought Hux was lean but he never thought his body would be so…boyish, all narrow shoulders and sharp bones sticking out. As they lie together, Ben can’t help but admire his companion’s smooth and freckled skin and the almost impossible narrowness of his hips, though he has to interrupt such train of thought because he can feel himself getting hard all over again.

“I don’t have an entirely good relationship with my father.” This statement takes Ben by surprise but the sentiment eases when he realises Hux is staring at the ceiling instead of at him, as if he were talking to himself and Ben was just a regular component of the room. “He believes I don’t live up to the family’s legacy.”

Ben frowns. “You’re a General. I don’t see what he--”

“It’s not about that. And I might be a General, but I am a currently imprisoned one,” says Hux as Ben keeps on staring. “In any case, I don’t believe there’s anything I could do to actually please him. I could rule the entire galaxy and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

“I understand,” admits Ben and suddenly, Hux’s gaze is on him, studying his expression and making him recoil. He tries again. “My family…my family has always doubted me. They doubt I can be a good strategist, or make good decisions, or keep a cool head. You could even say they fear me.”

“Why would they?”

“My grandfather,” starts Ben, unexpectedly uncertain of how to proceed. Hux’s intent stare is still on him. “My grandfather was Anakin Skywalker, most commonly known as--”

“Darth Vader, I know,” says Hux and though his voice is calm, there’s a strange glint in his eyes akin to incredulity.

“Then it must be obvious why everyone felt a certain animosity towards me,” replies Ben, slightly annoyed. “Everyone feared I’d eventually turn to the Dark, that I would be tempted and fall into it. Wiser men had fallen before, what was a kid supposed to do? And let’s face it; my temperament did nothing to appease their fears.”

Hux half-smirked. “Well, you did prove them wrong, though. You’re a Jedi now.”

“Yes, but I wasn’t always like this.”

“And were you ever tempted?”

“Numerous times,” says Ben. “There’d be voices in my head offering me everything you could possibly imagine: power, wealth, greatness…but somehow, none of it ever appealed to me. They couldn’t give me what I truly wanted.”

“And that was…?”

Ben looks at Hux, somewhat distressed. “Honestly? I just wanted my mother to look at me and feel pride instead of dread. I craved acceptance, approval, what any child in those circumstances would.”

Hux remains quiet for a while, processing the information. “What about your father?” he finally asks.

“He was…eccentric. My mother always said he was a different breed,” and at that, Ben smiles fondly. “He was almost never around, didn’t know exactly how to cope with everything regarding family life. He was used to a certain lifestyle and that was what he pursued until the end. He would come visit, though he wouldn’t stay for long. I wished for my father to _want_ to stay, but no dark power could achieve that.”

Hux is quiet once again. He seems about to say something but after a while, he just shrugs mildly. “I would have turned to the Dark if I were you,” he adds, his gaze back to the ceiling.

“How so?” asks Ben with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, if everyone already assumed you were going to do it, why disappointing? It’s useless to fight it if no-one is even going to recognise the effort.”

“It’s not about being recognised, it’s about what’s right,” starts Ben, offended. “You have no idea how much my grandfather suffered because of the decisions he made.”

“Perhaps,” concedes Hux in a pensive manner. “Though I still believe being powerful comes with its own advantages.”

Ben laughs at that. “I _am_ powerful now. Besides, the Light and the Dark aren’t two separate things; they need each other for balance. I myself have felt both pulls, and although it can get frustrating, in the end one can’t exist without the other.”

“Is that what you really think? Your people seem to disagree. They see me as nothing but a uniform.”

“My _people_ , as you call them, are not all Force sensitive,” explains Ben. “Also, you give yourself too much importance.”

Hux snorts and stares at Ben. “So I am the bad guy?”

“You’re not a _bad_ guy per se. You’ve grown into a particular lifestyle, just as I have,” says Ben, returning Hux’s look. “I believe there is light in everyone.”

Hux goes suddenly serious. “You might just want to reconsider that.”

Ben dismisses the comment and leans in to kiss Hux. This is something he’s thought of his entire life, especially during the last few days. Hux isn’t wrong about pointing out certain contradictions. As much as everyone tells him that both Light and Dark can coexist, they warn him about attachments and reprimand him if there exists the slightest possibility his actions could draw him toward a path different from the Light. He doesn’t necessarily resent them for that, yet he wishes things weren’t so confusing.

On the other hand, this feels good. He had been leaving every night right after sex, avoiding any further conversation. By the fifth night, Ben had stopped caring.

He stayed with Hux in his narrow cot, talking about anything or just _being_ there. He liked watching Hux’s skin go from angry red to his customary pallor as they both cooled down, and the way his hair ended up being a mess after every encounter. He also enjoyed hearing about Hux’s life previous to his incarceration, how he spoke so highly of his crew, how his family was as difficult a subject as it was for Ben himself. Yet, he was careful enough to leave before activities started in the base, though he sometimes wished he didn’t have to.

Ben stirs lazily in the cot, bumping against Hux and using the opportunity to wrap an arm around him and press a silent kiss to his back. It’s almost time to go, so he better starts getting ready. He rolls to the other side to start picking up his clothes.

When he’s about to exit the cell, he realises Hux hasn’t turned from the wall. At first, he thinks he just fell asleep, but he can still feel his consciousness so he approaches awkwardly, intending to say a proper goodbye.

“I’ll bring your food at the usual time, and I’ll meet you back tonight,” he assures, yet Hux doesn’t move. Ben calls out a couple more times and shrugs when he gets no response. He’s about to exit the room when Hux’s voice comes, almost like a whisper, from where he’s curled up.

“You know, Ren? Your theory may be right; there might be some light in everyone. But if there is light, then there must be darkness too.”

Ben doesn’t respond.

*****

Rey’s staff makes contact with Ben’s shin for the umpteenth time and he curses under his breath, managing to keep his balance but irritated nevertheless. They’ve been practicing combat for an hour already, yet Ben doesn’t seem to be able to concentrate. Rey had been laughing at first but her concern soon started to replace her amusement, the most recent contact finally taking its toll on both of them.

“Are you alright? You hadn’t let me win like this since we were children.”

“I’m fine!” barks Ben, pacing around and trying to distract himself from the pain emanating from the bruises in his body. “And I’m not letting you win, I’m just tired.”

“Understatement. Have you seen the bags under your eyes? They’re monumental!” continues Rey but Ben doesn’t respond, so she goes serious. “Are you sure you’re okay? Have you been having nightmares again?”

“No, it’s not nightmares. I’ve just been training too much, losing track of time.”

Rey fights the urge to make another sarcastic comment about training and focuses on changing the subject instead. “So how’s everything else going? Has the prisoner escaped yet?”

Ben tenses involuntarily at the mention of Hux, which doesn’t go unnoticed for Rey. She narrows her eyes as Ben tries to keep his expression as blank as possible. He’s aware that it’ll be suspicious if he formally closes his connection with Rey, so he has to do his best to prevent her from prying.

“I am capable of performing one simple task, thank you,” he says, trying to play it cool. “And speaking of which, I should probably get to it right now. Thanks for the sparring session, it was enlightening.”

Ben is about to leave when he feels Rey’s hand closing around his arm. He lets himself be turned around, his expression collected but the knot in his throat becoming increasingly overwhelming.

“You do know you can talk to me if there’s anything wrong, don’t you?” she asks and the worry in her eyes makes it easier for Ben to smile and hug her.

“I do,” he assures, letting her go. “Now I really should go or I’m gonna be late and Leia won’t let me hear the end of it.”

Ben flashes one last smile at Rey and jogs away, his heart beating faster than it should. For a minute there, he actually thought about telling Rey, about showing her he doesn’t really mind being tired because the reason behind makes it worth it, but he just can’t bring himself to do so. What would she think about it? About him being unable to control himself even before a prisoner. By the time Ben retrieves Hux’s tray, the knot in his throat has gotten worse.

 

DAY 71

Ben is dreaming. It’s a very simple dream, just him sitting by a busy street, people passing by. Suddenly, he turns to his left and there is Hux, dressed in fitting clothes, and when Ben turns to him, he smiles brightly, his whole face lighting up and making Ben’s heart jump. It’s nice to keep each other company here, in a street, freely, no expectations or demands.

Ben’s hand finds Hux’s and he discovers it fits and he doesn’t really want to move. He’s enjoying their shared silence when some footsteps interrupt him. They’re still far, but soon they’ll be close enough for him to see the face that comes with them…

Ben wakes with a jolt, finding himself in Hux’s small cot, the General tucked to his side, soundly asleep. His dream is gone but the footsteps remain. Someone is coming and he’s still there, half dressed.

The Jedi jumps from the bed, panicked, and starts putting on the rest of his clothes in a hurry. His mind is so blurry he can’t even try to assess who’s coming, though whoever it might be can’t see him here.

He’s finishing closing the cell’s door when he finds himself nose to nose with Poe Dameron, who’s giving him the weirdest look. Ben can’t blame him exactly; he hasn’t seen himself in a mirror but he’s sure his hair is a mess and his face must be at least marginally flushed because of his sudden hurry.

“Poe, hi!” he attempts, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t expect to find you here.”

“I guess I could say the same thing. What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on the prisoner. I always do.”

Poe doesn’t look entirely convinced but everything indicates he’s going to let it pass. “Luke’s been searching for you, you know?”

“Thanks, I was just going to see him,” Ben lies and turns away from Poe as fast as he can. It’s almost a miracle that yesterday both Hux and him had decided to actually get dressed before lying down, though he can’t remember the exact moment he had fallen asleep. That wasn’t supposed to happen, but certain amount of sleep deprivation was meant to take its toll on anyone, even a Force user.

It is only until he’s taking a shower that Ben questions Poe’s reason to be in the vaults so early. He assumes they’re going to take Hux to another round of interrogation and he feels uneasiness rise in his chest, but fights to control it. Whatever the Resistance decides to do with their prisoner is not of his concern, despite what the recent events might suggest. If only he could convince the part of himself that keeps on protesting…

Ben’s trying to come up with things to do in order not to see Luke when he hears a knock on his door. Outside stands Rey, fully clad in travel gear and when she says they’re being sent out on a mission, he almost feels like lifting her up in his arms and thanking her. It takes Ben less than 5 minutes to be ready.

They’re supposed to meet with a few informants and escort a new cargo with weapons back to the base, which shouldn’t take them more than two days. Once they’re on their transport, the feeling of uneasiness in Ben’s chest starts growing again. It’s just as if someone was extending a rope from Ben’s chest to the base, the chord stretching dangerously with every pull that drives him away from the place, threatening to break if stretched too far. The image of a pale, hollow-eyed Hux assaults his mind and it’s physically painful to stay at Rey’s side instead of succumbing to the impulse of returning to the vaults to make sure the image in his mind hasn’t come true.

As they leave the base behind and head to their objective, Ben does his best to send soothing vibrations through the Force, focusing on that tightening feeling in his chest. He can only hope they reach their destination.

*****

If there are good days for being a member of the Resistance, this is one of them. The meeting with the informants was uneventful, yet positive. Ben marvelled once again at Rey’s people skills; she, on the other hand, pointed out he could’ve easily been a politician just like his mother and his grandmother before. The thought of it made Ben smile.

They are now in a small hotel room, each lying in their bed and getting ready to sleep. The cargo is supposed to arrive at dawn so there’s really nothing else they can do in the meantime.

Ben’s been distracted enough throughout to whole day to acknowledge any bad feelings, but now that he’s got less to focus his attention on, he can sense the agitation creeping back in. Still, he keeps a straight face as he exits the ‘fresher and heads to his bed. Rey is already spread out on her own.

“This is exactly how every mission should go, although I wouldn’t mind a bit more of action, don’t you think?”

Ben gives the girl a warm smile and nods but turns quickly, certain that it hadn’t meet his eyes. As attuned as she is with him, Rey senses his distress.

“Hey, what is it?” she asks, concern furrowing her brow.

“It’s nothing. I just want to get this over with,” he admits. At least that’s not a lie.

Rey extends a hand towards Ben, which he takes gratefully. “We’re almost done, don’t worry. We’ll be back with Luke and the Knights in no time.”

The thought of Luke is enough to make Ben almost grateful for not being at the base, and he clings to that feeling before letting go of Rey’s hand and lying down. Soon enough they’re both dreaming.

However, Ben’s dream is not pleasant. It’s mostly sensations this time, scattered words and thoughts, but mostly pain. He feels his cheek stinging after a slap and he feels confusion, a struggle.

_No, stop,_ he murmurs but nobody listens. He wants to scream, to tell everyone off, when he realises all these sensations aren’t his. There’s someone else going through this, feeling this helpless and hurt.

“HUX!” Ben screams, finally waking up to a very worried Rey, gripping his shoulder as she sits on the side of the bed.

“It’s okay, Ben. It’s just a dream,” she tries to soothe him, though he’s too agitated. The sensations have receded but are still there, tingling at the back of his head and he’s having a hard time controlling his breathing. “It’s alright, he’s not here,” Rey assures and Ben feels a different sting, one that is entirely his.

“I wasn’t running from him,” he blurts, uncertain of why and earning a confused look from Rey. “In the dream, I mean.”

“Then what happened?”

Ben swallows, still very agitated and unable to think clearly. “They…they need information. It’s not Poe, though; he’d never do something like that. It’s someone I don’t know.”

“What are you talking about, Ben?”

He can see he’s starting to freak Rey out but he can’t seem to stop rambling. “They’ve done this to him before. I don’t agree with it but nobody seems to listen--”

“Ben!” Rey screams, shaking him again and looking pleadingly into his eyes. Realisation dawns on her and she covers her mouth involuntarily. “Oh my, you-- Oh Ben, what have you done?”

Ben’s head feels numb and everything seems distant. He doesn’t know to what extent Rey’s knowledge goes but even if it’s only superficial understanding, she must’ve seen what he’s been trying to hide even from himself. Ben hangs his head and finds he can breathe a little easier now that somebody else knows.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and he doesn’t know if it’s meant for himself, Rey or Hux. She remains quiet, her lips pressed together but she hasn’t let go of him, for which Ben is grateful.

“I—I just don’t understand,” Rey tries and Ben laughs humourlessly. “How did it happen?”

“Neither do I. I just know that when I realised, it was already too late.” Ben stares ahead, avoiding Rey’s eyes. “Will you tell them?”

She remains quiet for a while. “It’s your call, Ben. I’ve got nothing to do with this. My only concern is your well-being; he’s a criminal, after all. There’s hardly anything likeable about him.”

“What makes you think there’s anything to like about me?”

Rey’s eyes widen. “You surely don’t mean that. He’s a murderer.”

“So am I,” counters Ben, eyes gleaming. “What do you think I do on missions, what the Knights do, what even Poe and Finn do?”

“It’s different,” says Rey, looking away. “You have no choice.”

“What if he didn’t either?”

“Ben, I’m not going to be discussing politics with you! I—” Rey purses her lips again, in a very Leia-like gesture and Ben doesn’t have to read her mind to know what she’s thinking. There’s things she doesn’t accept, that’s obvious; Rey, for one thing, didn’t like the way Ben was treated, always supported him and would challenge everyone who even implied he could be dangerous, ever since they were little. But it’s hard for her to feel empathy towards Hux. Ben doesn’t blame her. He takes Rey’s hand in his and she sighs.

“I know you’re concerned, but I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” She looks at him slightly doubtful, yet manages to smile. “We should sleep now. Our work here isn’t finished.”

Rey kisses him on the forehead and goes back to bed, turning the lights off on her way. Ben takes a few more minutes to calm down from both his vision and the talk. He’s never liked upsetting Rey but he doesn’t even know how to handle this himself. He just hopes he doesn’t have to disappoint her in the near future.

 

DAY 72

They receive the cargo under the first rays of the warm sun, immediately initiating preparations to go back. Ben is much more collected after the night’s outburst of vulnerability, mainly because he’s not feeling in pain anymore; he’s just angry, and he’s been focusing in that emotion since waking. Even Rey is reluctant to get near him, which Ben silently resents, although he can’t blame her.

As soon as their ship’s ramp descends, Ben is striding over it and towards General Organa’s office before Rey or anyone else can stop him; he’s determined to take matters in his own hands this time. On his way over, he passes down the vaults, confirming that he can’t sense Hux’s presence there, the notion only strengthening his resolve.

Leia is already going through some blueprints when Ben bursts into her modest office. Her face holds relief under the knowledge of his return but soon changes into a more severe expression when she sees the crease in her son’s brow.

“Where’s my prisoner?” he blurts before he can stop himself and rephrase. Leia’s eyebrows rise.

“ _Your_ prisoner is being questioned. We need him to clarify some new information we’ve gotten.”

“Clarifying? Is that what you call torture now?”

“Ben, you know damn well we--”

“Don’t lie to me!” demands the Jedi, slamming his hand on Leia’s desk, surprise flashing across her face and prompting her to stand up from her chair. Ben swallows. “This way we’re nothing but hypocrites.”

“I will not have any of this, Ben! You know I would never order anyone to be tortured, or have you forgotten where we come from?”

“Then perhaps you should keep a closer look on your new recruits,” retorts Ben, straightening himself. “I could sense his beating from miles away.”

Leia perks up at that and Ben freezes for a minute. Perhaps he should’ve kept that to himself. His mother however says nothing for a while, her eyes searching his face and Ben closes his feedback compulsorily.

“I’ll look into this,” she concludes. “In the meantime, you’d do well to go see your uncle. He’s been looking for you since before you left.”

Ben nods quietly, the sole mention of Luke making him withdraw even further. He swiftly turns his back on his mother, nothing left to say.

“Oh, and Ben?” calls Leia, making him stop. “Don’t ever defy me like that again.”

Outside, the sky seems clear enough to expect good weather. Ben steps into the open just in time to see a couple of guards escorting Hux down to the vaults and he’s about to follow when he’s intercepted by one of the Knights, Panada. He wanted to practice some forms and had been awaiting Ben’s return, so the Jedi has no choice but to comply.

As he’s been lead away by the eager apprentice, he takes one last glance at the vaults, revelling in the feeling of Hux’s presence. Suddenly, the rope that seemed to be stretching him seems much less fragile.

*****

The sun is setting and Ben has managed yet another productive day of eluding Luke. He had almost forgotten how soothing the presence of his Knights was, how comforting their bond. Still, he’s also in need of seeing Hux; he has to make sure no-one’s significantly damaged him, although he’s afraid that might be too much to hope for.

He finds the General sitting on his cot, more collected than on previous occasions but with an absent look nonetheless. Ben lunges forward at the sight of him, pressing his free hand to the cell’s transparisteel, the other one holding the ever present tray with food.

Promptly, the Knight pushes it inside the cell, placing it gently on the floor with the use of the Force. Hux hasn’t moved and Ben feels like saying so many things at the same time that they all end up stuck in his throat. Surprisingly, Hux is the one to break the silence.

“I felt you. In my head, that is. It was…unusual.”

“I’ve reported that soldier’s behaviour. That was never supposed to happen.”

The older man huffs a low laugh. “Report him? It wasn’t even the first time.”

“I know,” Ben admits with a pang of guilt. “But it will be the last.”

“May I inquire,” starts Hux, his eyes finally meeting Ben’s, “what’s the use? Don’t you see it, Ren? We’re fucked, you and me. That’s how this whole mess started in the first place.” Ben looked down, frowning, feeling abruptly self-conscious, a sensation he was sadly familiar with.

“That’s-- It’s not a mess. The Force is wise.”

Hux snorts. “The Force is wise…listen to yourself!”

“Hey, the Light and the Dark are very real,” Ben replies, his pride wounded.

“Forget about the Light and the Dark! We’re both just failures! You’re an over-emotional Force user with little to no control and I’m a decadent ex General whose luck has finally run out!” barks Hux, his words stinging. “We’re both prisoners and no matter how much we fuck to forget it, it’s not going to change.”

“You’re out of your mind. You need food and rest,” declares Ben and it’s hard to tell who he wants to convince more fervently. He goes to the cell’s control panel, decided to enter when he’s stopped by the General’s call.

“Don’t,” he says and he’s back to staring vacantly into the nothingness. “I’d prefer to be alone tonight.”

Anger is the first emotion to rise in Ben’s chest, but the flame extinguishes rapidly, being replaced by shame and defeat. He leaves Hux to his own devices, knowing that he needs to process things as well.

 

DAY 75

Ben sits in his room, meditating. He’s been locked for three days already, ignoring everyone’s calls to coax him out, even Rey’s. He’s only left his room to bring dinner to Hux and exited immediately after.

Yesterday he was still in a foul mood. Today, after as many days of meditating and connecting with the Force, he feels much more confident. He walks out of his room and goes to fetch the tray that has become a constant in his life. He then descends to the vaults, walks over to Hux’s cell and hands him the tray, turning away as soon as the other grabs it.

“Wait,” Hux calls from behind and something inside Ben breaks. He can’t go, not when Hux’s voice sounds so brittle, like it could break at any moment.

Without a second thought, Ben strides over to the control panel and opens the cell, his hands going straight to Hux’s face once he’s inside. The General, in turn, has left the tray on the cot, his hands now gripping the Jedi’s robe desperately. Their lips clash and Ben feels as if he’s been holding his breath for days on a row and he’s finally inhaling some fresh air.

Hux clutches his chest, his arms, his hair and for a moment it seems like they share that same feeling of relief, as if Hux had been needing this as much as him, but whatever judgment Ben could’ve formed is clouded by the sensation of Hux’s velvety lips sliding down his throat, pressing wet kisses to it. He closes his eyes.

“Ren…”

The whispered name prompts Ben to open his eyes again and he finds Hux staring intently at him, his green eyes sparkling under the cold light of the room, the jade-like irises obscured by blown pupils. His lips are wet and he seems so much younger than Ben’s ever seen him before. He’s come to adore this look on Hux: dishevelled yet strangely dignified, wrecked yet put together. And he feels his stomach shrink when he ponders over the fact that all those violent emotions are directed towards him.

It’s not long before they’re both pulling on each other’s clothes, Ben’s robe falling to the floor in disarray. The tray still lies over the cot, so Ben decides to improvise, dragging Hux down with himself to the floor, the discarded clothes serving as a blanket. The General seems disconcert for a minute but then he starts nipping at Ben’s neck all over again, letting his hands travel freely over the taller man’s body.

 

With much more force than anyone else could’ve thought possible for someone as lean as Hux, he grabs Ben by the wrists and pins his arms above his head, taking a few minutes to admire his handiwork and slowly guiding one of the hands towards his mouth, coating Ben’s fingers with his saliva as he slides his tongue and sucks over them. The Knight looks at him, mesmerised, while Hux leads the hand to his lower back and finally to his arse.

The preparations are a bit rudimentary for Ben’s standards but he hadn’t planned for this to happen. He settles for a slow rhythm, giving Hux plenty of time to adjust to the intrusion of two fingers, before adding a third one. The ginger is panting on top of him, a flush extending from his cheeks and all the way down to his neck, making his abundant freckles stand out.

When Ben slides in, they both gasp at the sensation. They’ve been doing this for the past couple of weeks and yet every time is like starting all over again. And this time, as Hux leans down to press a kiss to the Jedi’s nose while he settles himself, Ben feels the closest to Hux he’s ever been.

The General starts a lazy rhythm, taking in Ben’s expression of tortured pleasure and smirking at it. Still, the torment doesn’t last for long and soon, Hux is riding Ben in his usual frantic manner, chest beaded with perspiration, hair falling over his eyes; he’s usually a tease, so this comes as a pleasant change for Ben, whom up to this moment had thought he’d seen everything of Hux. But the General seems to be always one step ahead of him, even when fucking and he’s hit by another overwhelming wave of relief, of comfort, of _home_ …

Hux rides him like his life depends on it as Ben digs his fingers into the ginger’s hips, both their breathings ragged and their gazes slightly unfocused. The sight of Hux owning him makes Ben weak and he’s sure that if he’d been standing, his knees would’ve buckled; he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop marvelling at how much power Hux still holds, even while locked up inside a small, improvised cell, even when denied every comfort he was accustomed to; even stripped from his uniform and his rank.

The pressure starts building quickly. Ben pumps Hux’s cock in time with the other’s hips and his own thrusts until he sees Hux’s back arching. _Come_ , he whispers inside the General’s mind, sending him over the edge, hot spurts of cum dotting Ben’s chest. The subsequent increase in heat and tightness of Hux makes Ben reach his own climax, a moan caught up in his throat.

They both come down from their haze in a mess of entangled limbs and ragged breathings. Hux’s red hair falls messily over Ben’s chin as the smaller man rests on top of him, completely spent. Leisurely, Hux slides off from Ben’s chest, positioning himself on his side and burying his nose in the Knight’s arm, eyes closed peacefully. Ben looks at Hux, at the way his lashes stand out from his pale skin, at the way his hair flutters slightly with every breath Ben takes, at the feeling of his warm skin against his and something in his chest tightens; it’s like the opposite feeling from the one he got while being away from this planet, a closeness he’s never felt before, even with Force bonds.

If he weren’t absolutely consumed, he could ponder over the fact that he feels entirely lost in this situation, or the dangers of letting himself get carried away with this, but he also thinks it’s too late to stop it. Instead, he uses his discarded robe to cover Hux, resting his hand over the other’s back. When he pulls the robe further to try to cover himself up as well, something falls off from one of the pockets; it’s the damned razor that started it all. Ben picks it up and stares at it for a while, turning it in his hand, incredulous yet fond. No need to wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done things differently; things are what they are and there’s no point in indulging in wishful thinking.

Ben puts the razor back in its place and turns his whole body towards Hux, who is already dozing off. He breathes in the General’s scent and sighs. There’s no way things should’ve happened differently when this feels so right.

 

DAY 76

Hours slip by in a lazy manner as Ben lies in his quarter’s floor. This is his fourth day of seclusion but this one doesn’t feel the same as the others. He’s been trying to meditate, though concentration is almost impossible.

When he exited Hux’s cell this morning, it felt strangely ceremonial and he can’t by the life of him understand why. Last night was so different for Ben; he could hardly recognise Hux amongst all the passion and energy the General displayed.

The Knight sighs. Although he is not a stranger to staying in one place for long periods of time, his room is becoming constricting. And somehow, this claustrophobic feeling makes him feel closer to Hux.

Yet he has things to do, duties to perform. He’s been avoiding everyone for the past days and even when he doesn’t have the slightest intention of changing the situation, he has to at least check on Rey, so he gets up from his sanctuary on the floor and stretches his senses, looking for Rey’s presence, but finds out he cannot sense it. She’s probably still taken aback by both his involuntary confession and his consequent behaviour. He needs to find her.

Ben exits his room and starts making his way through the base’s corridors, searching for Rey’s soothing presence. He’s so fixed on finding her that he doesn’t notice another equally powerful presence until he’s almost butting heads with Luke. The expression of surprise in the older man’s face is met with fear on Ben’s side.

“Ben! You’re finally out and walking, that’s good. How are you feeling?”

Ben’s at a loss for words. “Uncle, I—I’m sorry, I’m looking for Rey.”

“Surely you have a little time for me. We haven’t talked in what seems like ages, let alone meditating,” says Luke and the hope in his eyes makes Ben’s chest tighten.

“I’ve been meditating all this time,” he adds, lamely. Luke goes suddenly serious.

“I believe there are a few things we should discuss, Ben.”

He knows. There is no other explanation, yet Ben can’t help but wonder bitterly how he managed to find out. Surely Rey didn’t…?

“Rey didn’t tell me,” clarifies Luke. “At least not deliberately. It happened very much involuntarily during a meditating session. You’re well aware of how powerful that connection can be.”

Ben curses internally. How could he be so careless as to confide in Rey without at least suspecting this could happen?

“Oh, don’t blame her. It’s not her fault, Ben. Surely if I hadn’t found out through her, your behaviour from the last few days would’ve easily given you away.”

“I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my head,” says Ben, teeth gritted. Luke half-smiles back.

“I don’t have to browse through it. I’ve told you before, nephew: you can be very transparent when you don’t want to.”

“So what now? You tell Leia, and then?”

Luke frowns and for a moment he seems hurt. “Ben, if I wanted to tell Leia, I would have already done so. It’s not the lack of opportunity that has stopped me.”

“Then what it is?” inquires Ben, struggling to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

“You,” replies Luke, and he seems altogether solemn again. “I wanted to talk to you first, hear your side of the story. How did this happen?”

“I don’t know,” says the Knight honestly, yet avoiding his uncle’s eyes. “I told Rey and I’m telling you now: I don’t know how it happened, I can’t make sense of it myself, let alone explaining it to someone else.”

“But you do know the consequences of this, don’t you? You know where attachments can lead to, especially with people like him--”

“What do you know about _people like him_?” Ben snaps, feeling suddenly protective.  “You really think we’re that different, me and him? That he could push me to the Dark Side? Has it ever occurred to any of you that you should be guarding him from me and not the way around?”

Luke stares at his nephew and for a second, Ben sees the glint of quiet fear that has characterised his every interaction with his family and acquaintances since he was a child, but soon enough, his uncle manages to control himself.

“You’re right, I don’t know him. But I know my nephew, and nobody should be guarded from you, let alone a murderer.”

Ben almost feels the impulse to laugh at that. “Sounds very hypocritical coming from someone who’s tried to control me my whole life,” he says and there’s that look of hurt again.

“I’ve only ever tried to protect you, Ben. And it sincerely pains me to know that I can’t protect you from this heartbreak, or to spare you this loss.”

Ben’s eyes grow wider. “What…what loss?”

“Oh Ben,” breathes Luke and his pain seems genuine enough. He averts his eyes before continuing. “I thought you’d have talked with your mother by now. The prisoner’s being transferred.”

“Where?”

“To a real prison, in another system.”

Suddenly it’s as if the ground has been removed from under Ben’s feet. “Why?” He mutters, a constant ringing drilling his head.

“People want justice, Ben, and it’s not every day they can get it from one of the most important figures of the First Order. You surely understand all the political intricacies better than I do,” explains Luke.

“And when is this happening?”

“Tomorrow.”

A cold shiver runs down the Jedi’s spine. His uncle’s eyes are still on him.

“You love him,” says Luke more to himself than anything and although his tone suggests otherwise, there’s no resentment in his gaze when he looks at Ben.

“I don’t,” replies the Knight, turning away.

“Ben--” starts Luke, but is caught off by a fiery glance.

“Don’t call me that.”

*****

The water scalds when it hits Ben’s skin, propelled from the showerhead in an almost angry manner. The Knight stands under it, staring at the wall as vacantly as Hux had days ago. He can hardly grasp how things got so out of hand this quickly.

He doesn’t pity Hux, that’s for sure; he just cannot bear the thought of someone hurting him, touching him, separating them. Then of course, there’s the recurring scene of his dream, the one Poe’s footsteps woke him from, the image of him and Hux enjoying an evening out, no walls to contain them, no transparisteel between them. It all seemed like the most stupid fantasy.

Yet Ben can’t keep on denying that what he feels for Hux goes beyond empathy. He already admitted it before Rey and was confronted about it by Luke. However, it’s somehow harder to accept it when he’s on his own.

On the other hand, he refuses to recognise Hux might be right once again. He’s been in the middle of this struggle all his life, torn between being a proper Jedi and embracing all the impulses he’s been taught to avoid. Perhaps his prison is just less visible than Hux’s.

Images of the last few months replay in his head, his brain stopping in the most recent weeks, when he’s had Hux’s skin so close, their bodies pressed together, the General’s hands in his hair, his teeth on his neck. And even in that small, confined space, Ben has felt free, perhaps more than he ever has in his entire life.

And still, deep within, he knew this wasn’t going to last forever. Sooner or later, Hux was going to piss off the wrong people or they’d simply conclude the intel he could provide was no longer valuable enough compared to the cost of keeping him, and that dreaded moment was here.

Tomorrow, they’ll be transferring Hux to a proper prison and that will be it; the General will forever be locked away from him. If they decide to keep him alive, that is, because as much as his mother inclines towards less violent forms of justice, Ben has already seen what more radical individuals are willing to do, what _he_ would’ve been willing to do a few months ago. There has to be something, _anything_ he can do to keep this. And he’s going to figure it out.

 

DAY 77 – NIGHTTIME

Ben looks at himself in the mirror. The shadows under his eyes give his already peculiar face a new depth, making his cheekbones stand, his face look sharper. Although his appearance has always been an issue -especially when he wanted to make himself threatening but his youth simply jeopardised his intentions-, today he ignores it in favour of the look in his eyes. He sees decision there, not an ounce of doubt. His face is that of a man who knows what's coming and is willing to defy fate in order to construct his own. With one last look, he exits his room and heads to a place that has slowly acquired a completely different meaning than the originally intended: the vaults.

He walks down the corridor, this time with no tray in hand until he stands before the General's personal prison. He doesn't know how to start, how to begin what he has come to do, so he looks for comfort the only way he knows, the one he learnt with Hux.

Ben slides his hand inside the small door intended to pass the food, waiting for Hux to take it. The General eyes it quietly and hesitantly closes in, running his fingers over the Jedi's, a smirk showing in his face when Ben looks up. Hux's eyes are a deep green, a cold jade-like appearance to them. That impossible shade of green is the last thing Ben sees before a powerful tug makes him drop to his knees painfully.

The Knight's forehead bangs against the cell's door, his vision blurring for a bit. He's up to the elbow inside the small door, his arm twisted uncomfortably as Hux holds it. In a swift movement, the General twists his arm further until Ben's back is pressed to the transparisteel and just as swiftly, he sneaks a hand through the orifice, placing a razor to the Jedi's neck. Then it all clicks. Their last night together, Ben contemplating the blade and then simply going to sleep; not checking his robes once he was in his room, too caught up in his own emotions to actually pay attention to anything else.

"Don't even think about trying anything reckless, Kylo. You know better than that".

The General's tone is icy and Ben can feel the razor pressing to his pulse-point and he obeys. "Now, open the door with the Force. I know you can do it."

In any other circumstances, he could've argued that the Force didn't work that way, but then he feels the pressure in his neck augmenting and he has to make an effort to concentrate. He's not afraid. He knows he could easily overpower Hux with the Force but there's something stopping him, and Ben thinks it might be the fact that Hux never ceases to amaze him, always seemingly one step ahead of him, even without the aid of the Force.

Still, his fascination doesn't temper the pain, the feeling of being used, and the knot in his throat has nothing to do with having a blade against his skin.

"What's taking us so long?" Asks Hux, impatiently, the razor already biting into Ben's skin.

“So this was it, this was the plan all along?”

“I’m afraid it was.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Hux scoffs. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t believe you. I don’t believe it was all just about this. I thought you would choose--”

“What, Ren? You thought I’d choose what, _love_?”

“No.”  The Knight licks his lips, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “Just me.”

The change in the atmosphere is drastic. The thick silence extends for a few more beats.

"Sorry to disappoint," Hux mutters and then Ben is opening the door.

Once there's enough room to get through, Hux moves, passing the blade to the other side with him and immediately pressing it back to Ben's neck as soon as he's out. He makes the Knight stand and places himself behind him.

"Give me your robe," he demands and Ben complies. Even when Hux is putting it on, the razor doesn't leave his side. Hux puts the hood on, hiding his fiery hair under. He grabs Ben's arm harshly.

"We have to go to the hangars. If you try to alert anyone, I'll slice your throat in front of your mother."

Ben feels in a haze as he leads Hux out through the corridors that are now very familiar to him. It's odd to have Hux pressed against him like this, his face hidden under the hood of the robe, not dissimilarly to the way Ben pretended to get him out.

Most Resistance members are inside at this time of the night, so the walk towards the hangars is mostly uneventful, aside from a few glances sent their way, though everyone knows Ben and the Knights are sometimes eccentric, so they don't look twice. Except for a certain pilot who was getting back from the hangars when he spots Ben and the hooded figure.

If it had been any other pilot, perhaps he would've gone his way and forgotten about the sight. But this was Poe Dameron and he had spent his fair share of time with the prisoner to recognise those stiff lips, the elegant nose and the sharp cheekbones. He calls out to one of the few people roaming around and sends them to alert General Organa of suspicious behaviour down the hangars, while he runs to the vaults to confirm his suspicions.

In the meantime, Hux and Ben arrive at their destination, the General pushing his hostage more freely now that they're away from prying glances. He's looking for an adequate vehicle, avoiding the volatile X-Wings in favour of a larger ship, still smaller than the transports, with a small escape capsule attached. He nudges the Knight forward, urging him to get past the ship's security systems.

Poe Dameron on his part arrives at Hux's cell just to find it empty and to immediately rush back to the hangars. General Leia Organa is already hurrying down the tarmac, followed only by Finn, a small squad of guards and the man who alerted her about the situation, whom she forbid from notifying anyone else. On her way there, she finds Rey, who joins them as soon as she sees the distress in her adoptive mother’s face.

By the time they reach the hangars, both Hux and Ben are on board their selected ship, the latter strapped tightly to one of the seats while the General’s trying to figure out how to operate the vehicle, being skilful enough to have the engines already on.

“Ben!” Leia shouts as the guards surround the transport, guns pointed at the cockpit from where Hux’s face is visible. Poe arrives in that very moment, almost breathless.

“I’d take it easy if I were you, General,” says Hux, his voice ringing through the ship’s speakers. “As of now, your son is my hostage, which certainly puts you in a disadvantageous position.”

Rey steps forward, baring her teeth and igniting her lightsabre. Hux then unstraps Ben and pulls him towards his chest so he can come to view, the blade with which Hux managed to escape being substituted by a blaster pistol pointed to the Jedi’s temple.

“Uh-uh, stand down, girl, or I blow his brains off.”

Leia places a hand on Rey’s shoulder and she impotently turns off the sabre. The young Jedi looks at Leia pleadingly. _What is Ben doing? He could take him down with a thought_ , her feedback screams but Leia remains impassive.

“There’s no need to get to that, General,” she says, staring gravely at Hux.

“I agree. For which I propose a deal.”

“I’m listening,” says Leia. Poe glances at Finn, who is just as confused as him.

“I have no intention of taking your son’s life, at least not for personal reasons. I just want you to let me take off, leave this planet and get as far away from here as possible. There’ll be no retaliation for imprisoning nor questioning me. In fact, you’ll never have to hear from me again,” explains Hux. “As you know, this ship possesses an escape capsule, so as soon as I’m at an adequate range from this planet, I’ll release it containing your son, after which I’ll proceed to turn off the location systems of my own vehicle. You will not come after me or attempt to stop me at any rate or I will blow up the capsule.”

“It sounds quite risky to me, General. What guarantees me you’re not going to kill my son as soon as you’re in space?” asks Leia, her features tense but her voice firm.

“As I said, I have no reason to do so. I’m not interested in taking Kylo Ren’s life. But of course, you only have my word for it,” replies Hux and Rey winces at the use of Ben’s title. “Still, I’d only have your promise as insurance for not coming after me, which leaves us in as close to equal conditions as possible.”

Leia clenches her jaw. “You know I cannot promise that, General. You’re too valuable an asset.”

Hux ponders that for a few seconds. “Think about it this way: one valuable asset in exchange for another. Unless of course you don’t consider your own son that valuable an asset.”

“How dare you--?” starts Rey but is cut off by another one of Leia’s looks.

“You’re very intelligent, General Organa,” recognises Hux. “I wished our meeting would’ve been in different circumstances. I trust you’ll make the right choice.”

All eyes are darting from Hux to Leia and back. She’s used to making decisions in rather desperate circumstances, but her son’s life is usually out of that equation. She can feel Ben’s eyes on her, yet they don’t seem to hold anger or disappointment. If anything, he just seems…resigned. She knows the marvels he’s capable of; maybe if she lets Hux go, Ben can overpower him and bring him back. But if that doesn’t happen, there’s always the risk of sending his son to an inexorable death, and as much as Hux might think she doesn’t care, that’s the exact reason why she’s hesitating, because she cares too much. She’s about to deny Hux’s request, when a voice erupts at her back.

“Let them go.”

Leia turns around, incredulous. “Luke?”

The Jedi Master nods. “Do it,” he encourages and Leia can’t figure for the life of her why he seems so confident.

Soon after, she’s giving the order for the guards to lower their weapons and signalling for everyone else to make way for the take-off, glancing one last time at the cockpit. Rey’s pleading look is back, now drifting between Leia and Luke but neither seems to notice. She tries to reach to Ben through the Force, though there’s nothing but fog in the connection that binds them and she can’t help the tears that spill from her eyes.

“He’ll kill him, we have to do something!” Rey screams and Finn holds her before she can run further, the girl almost collapsing in her kind companion’s embrace.

Everyone starts heading towards the control centre. Inside, their systems are already beeping, the trajectory of the stolen ship reflected on the holoscreens. There are minutes of frightened silence in which every person in the room seems to be holding their breath. Time stretches almost impossibly, 13 minutes passing before a different dot appears in the radar, traveling in the opposite direction of the bigger one.

“It’s him, it’s the escape capsule!” shouts Finn excited, but Leia and Luke remain serious.

As the dot approaches the planet’s atmosphere, its trajectory becomes more erratic. Rey gets closer to the holo.

“What’s happening? What is he doing?” asks Poe, receiving no answer.

Slowly, Leia stands from her seat. “The crisis is resolved. You can all go now.”

“What?” Finn and Rey cry out in unison.

“I said you are dismissed,” replies Leia in a clipped tone. “No one shall speak about any of these events to anyone, and that’s a direct order.”

The guards nod and start making their way out of the room. Rey’s stuck in her place and so is Poe, but after evaluating Leia’s expression, he decides to head for the exit as well. Finn gently tugs on Rey’s shoulders, guiding her out of the room with Poe’s help, who closes the door behind them.

Leia falls back on her seat, her legs suddenly feeling weak. She stares at the errant dot in the holo and sighs. Luke is still standing behind her, quietly.

“I hope you know exactly what you’re doing,” she says, almost whispering.

“Leia,” starts Luke, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder, “I couldn’t have been the only one to see it.”

Leia shuts her eyes and sighs once more. “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It’s not every day that your son falls for a mass-murdering prisoner.”

“You know there are some things that can’t be helped.”

“Hell if I know. Han Solo is proof of that,” she admits, not without fondness. She suddenly goes serious. “You don’t think Ben--?”

“No,” Luke immediately responds, and he doesn’t miss how his sister deflates. “But I have faith in him.”

Leia can’t deny she does too, even if it doesn’t lessen the pain. She thinks back on that last look at the ship’s cockpit, that last moment in which her eyes locked with her son’s and she could see everything he’d been hiding all this time: all the helplessness, all the frustration, all the hurt, and on top of that, the love, that immense feeling directed towards the man piloting the ship. She couldn’t help but feel apprehension, but she was also glad. She took her brother’s hand in her, kissing it.

“I know. We’ve always had.”

*****

The engines of the ship run smoothly and Hux can’t help but feel good about himself. Both the escape and the negotiation went better than expected and Kylo hasn’t tried anything reckless; in fact, he’s been unusually quiet.

He takes one last look at the course they’re supposed to be following and lifts from his seat, unfastening Ren’s restraints, just to head to the back of the ship and start fiddling with the escape capsule.

“What are you doing?” calls Ren from his seat but Hux ignores him in favour of his present task. He tugs and pulls until he hears a crack and he smiles sufficiently.

“I am giving you your freedom,” he finally says, walking towards Ren, holding a small box with cables sticking out of it and a blinking light. The Knight eyes it warily. “This is the capsule’s Galactic Positioning System, a much more basic one than this ship’s own,” he explains, turning the small gadget in his hands.

“And you just ripped it off,” points Kylo.

Hux sighs and flops on the pilot’s seat. “I know, thanks for the obvious observation. I need it for the plan to work.”

“What plan, the one in which you break your part of the deal? Why am I not surprised?”

“Would you listen?” says Hux, raising his voice. “Right now, we’re at a reasonable distance from your people’s planet. You can take the capsule right now and you’ll be back safely in almost no time.” Ren raises a brow at Hux, wondering what’s to come. “ _Or_ …I can drop you off at the next decent planet and you can start over.”

Ren snorts but keeps his eyes fixed on Hux’s. “And why would I do that?”

“Because this is exactly what you want, what you’ve wanted for too long already. Somewhere to be whoever you want to be; no pressure, no expectations to fulfil, no fear.”

The smile in Ren’s face is condescending. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I think I know enough,” says Hux. _And you of me_.

Ren startles at the clarity of his feedback. The reaction encourages Hux.

_I did make a choice, you idiot._

_Not the obvious one…_

_It would’ve been out of character._

_Perhaps. You could’ve given me a warning at least._

_Oh, come on Ren! You must’ve known all along. Otherwise you wouldn’t have let me get this far. You think I don’t know you could’ve crushed me in a heartbeat?_

“I wouldn’t have,” says Ren, frowning. Hux gets up from his seat.

“Then it’s settled,” he says and he heads to the small garbage chute, launching the positioning device into space so the Resistance’s systems can track it. He knows they’re not stupid and they will eventually figure out the device is not attached to the capsule, but that at least will give them some time. He goes back to his seat almost solemnly and turns off his own tracking system, staring at Ren.

“I still don’t understand why you did this.”

Hux averts his gaze. “I did need you for bargaining purposes, but I figured giving you a chance to make your own decisions was a fair compensation. After all, you were right in your judgement: nothing is completely dark.”

“Or completely light,” Kylo reflects and Hux smiles.

_The why can’t I come with you?_

Hux’s smile vanishes; he was dreading this question.

_You know exactly why. The universe is not precisely a nice place to people like me. There is no way you can start over while having me as a burden._

“You’re not a burden,” exclaims Ren, piercing Hux with his gaze again. “Far from that; I thought it was obvious enough by now.”

“Sentiment is beside the point, Ren. It’s logic we’re talking about here and even if your mother keeps her word, there’re lots of people out there desperate to kill me.”

“Let them try, then. We can take them down, find a way--”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Of course it is!” Ren snaps and he goes suddenly quiet. His eyes are wide and slightly watery and Hux wants to run his hand over those boyish features. “Hux, I--”

“Don’t,” he begs and he hates himself for the whiny pitch of his voice. “I know it. But there’s a reality we can’t deny.”

Kylo purses his lips and goes completely silent. Hux has to stand up for a bit to avoid being so close to the Knight. He paces around the small space, entertaining himself with some technical details until the navigation system starts beeping. They’re approaching the planet in which he’ll drop Kylo. A shiver runs down his spine but Hux shakes it, trying to distract his brain from stupid questions and hypotheses. _Better listen to yourself_ , he thinks, _focus on the undeniable reality. You’re a liability. Staying with you would be no freedom_.

Slowly, Kylo rises from his seat and heads to the capsule. Hux has to muster all his strength not to stop him. He detaches himself from the wall which he was distractedly studying and follows Kylo. The Knight is already settling himself inside the capsule, its wide transparisteel viewports showing the stars surrounding them.

“I suppose acknowledgments are in order,” says Ren but Hux shrugs.

“No need; we both played our part, after all.”

Ren nods and extends a hand forward, which Hux takes. His other hand roams over Kylo’s arm, travelling all the way up from it to his neck and up to his face. He lets his fingers trace the Knight’s strong nose and soft lips, sliding them through his hair. He then lets go entirely, taking a step back.

“Hux, wait!” calls the Knight and he freezes. “You never told me your name.”

“What does it matter?” he inquires, confused.

“It matters to me,” Kylo admits softly and Hux can’t help but smile.

Slowly, he leans in until his lips are pressed against the Knight’s ear and he whispers. Kylo’s eyes widen and a smile spreads over his face. Hux withdraws, sufficiently satisfied, but then Kylo’s hands are pulling him in and their lips are clashing and his eyes close involuntarily, his whole body moulding against Ren. Hux feels the wet press of the other’s tongue on his and wonders how he’s ever going to be able to survive without it.

It is over too soon, and then Kylo is gazing back at him with those impossibly brown eyes, melting Hux’s insides with them.

“Thank you,” he says and gives Hux’s arm one last squeeze. “Keep the robe.”

Hux hadn’t even noticed he was still wearing the damn thing until Ren pointed it out. Kylo closes the capsule’s door and secures it, his eyes never leaving Hux’s. It was ironic how the roles reversed, Kylo being the one behind a transparisteel door now, locked inside some cramped space and Hux contemplating from the outside. He almost expects a fucking tray with food to materialise in his hand.

He would promise something but he knows promises are never good enough. They weren’t when his mother vowed to protect him from anyone and anything, or when his father promised to be in one of his combat exhibitions, so what was the use?

He stands there as the locks from the capsule start disengaging, a protective translucent film descending to isolate the capsule from the main ship. Then the General allows himself one last expression of sentimentality. He presses his hand to the cold see-through surface and Kylo barely has time to press his own on the other side before the capsule starts shaking until it’s finally propelled from the ship and towards the planet.

A few seconds later, a durasteel curtain starts descending over the transparent cover, definitely sealing the ship and gradually blocking Hux’s view of the planet. He follows its descent, crouching along with it until there’s only a crevice left and he drops to the floor on his stomach, pathetically taking in the last images of both the capsule and the planet. He stays there a while longer, feeling the coldness of steel sinking into his bones.

He hasn’t been on his own for more than a few minutes and he already feels empty. He couldn’t promise Kylo anything but he supposes there’s a minor consolation: he did manage to shake certain aspects of Hux’s Weltanschauung, to get to the very core of his being. Ren should be proud.

_And you got to mine._

Hux smiles like a madman. And as much as he’s not Force sensitive, he has a good feeling about this.

* * *

The night is cold and dry. The extremely hot temperatures reached during the day give way for equally excessive drops that threaten to chill anyone irrational enough to go out without covering themselves properly.

He enters the canteen lazily, heading straight to the bar. He’s been here for a month already and people is starting to warm up to his presence; as much as a bunch of smugglers and bounty hunters can, of course. He orders the usual and waits, wrapping his hood tighter around his face. He scans the place swiftly, just to make sure there’s nobody extremely interested in him, and once he approves of the situation, he starts sipping at his drink.

There is a pair of broad individuals sitting in the adjacent tables, both of them non-human. They’re discussing something from a paper, gesticulating violently.

“The Order’s going down,” one of them says. “I heard the Resistance has been advancing in the liberation of systems.”

“That’s rubbish,” says the other. “The First Order is now in possession of the most important trade routes. The last time they managed to be in such a good position was two years ago, with that General Whatshisname guy.”

“Nux,” responds the first but shakes his head immediately after. “No, wait, Hux.”

“Yeah, that one. Whatever happened to him?”

The first one shrugs. “No one really knows. He disappeared once without a trace and he was never found again.”

“Are you saying he just vanished?”

“That’s what I’ve read.”

“Well, back where I’m from, we’ve got a name for that. It’s called cowardice.”

The first one starts laughing. “I know! What kind of jerk leaves the most comfortable job in the galaxy for a damn permanent unpaid vacation?”

The second nods. “Yeah, you’d have to be really stupid. I bet he made it to General by licking lots of boots…”

“Both figurative and literally, that’s for sure.”

The two of them start laughing again. He tenses, the hand with which he grips his glass trembling lightly.

“Mate, I bet you he had to lick more than boots!”

The laughing starts again and he has to muster every ounce of patience inside of himself not to smash his glass over those two monsters’ heads. He can’t leave, though, he hasn’t even finished one drink and it’d be suspicious. He’s going to have to maintain his composure at whatever cost.

“Maybe he even won a medal for it. The First Order’s award for sucking c--”

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk about things you don’t know.”

Both the laughing and the talking stops and he freezes. He turns his head discreetly to find another hooded figure towering over the cheerful pair.

“Why don’t you mind your own business, pal?” says one of them, emboldened.

The figure chooses to ignore him. “You know what happens to slanderers? I hear the Order pays pretty well for living ones,” says the stranger, leaning down over the table to speak in a lower voice, “that way they can actually hear them scream.”

Both beings look at each other and slowly get up from their seats, making their way out of the canteen without looking back. The hooded figure rises and rounds him to sit on the other empty stool of the bar. The stranger orders a drink which he downs completely as soon as he receives it.

His heart is beating faster than it has in years. He lifts his glass too quickly and it slips, knocking against the table and spilling its contents over it. He steps off, has to get out of here, right now…

A hand grabs him and he can’t avoid the other’s gaze any longer. He tilts his head up and stares into familiar brown eyes that widen when he meets them.

“Hux?” the stranger breathes, although he’s no stranger anymore. A lopsided grin spreads over the familiar face and Hux can’t help but flash one of his own. “So, what are you supposed to be?” Ren says and Hux feels himself transported back in time to that very first day when he met a masked stranger, only now in slightly less stressful circumstances.

His father always said there were no such things as coincidences. And as he stares into Kylo’s eyes, Hux thinks he was unquestionably right.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a lot of fun to do and I'm actually real proud about finishing it. I'm also terribly in love with the art done for this fic; it's much more than I could've wished for.


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